


The Will of the Green Lady (and her husband The Smith)

by Dragonsteamfan



Series: Doing the Green Lady's Will (as well as that of her Lord's) [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Dori is a girl, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, M/M, Rebuilding Erebor, Time Travel Fix-It, Tolkien wasn't a gardener
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 121,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsteamfan/pseuds/Dragonsteamfan
Summary: Bilbo, Thorin, Fili and Kili are sent back to do things better this time, only the Valar aren't taking any chances.  Erebor will once more be the Guardian of the North, even if they have to arrange things themselves.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies), Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), OC/OC
Series: Doing the Green Lady's Will (as well as that of her Lord's) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180244
Comments: 1288
Kudos: 1402
Collections: Best of the time travel and SI/OCs





	1. Chapter 1

August 1

If it wasn't for the fact that Bilbo Baggins had to be at morning services, he knew he would be a complete and utter wreck. As Master Baggins of Bag End, Head of the Baggins Clan, his duties to his tenants and his family were a well worn path that he could walk without sparing too much thought. Which really was just as well, otherwise he would still be abed, hiding his head under the covers, and denying what the Valar had done - which was to send him, Bilbo Baggins, back in time after his death to set right what he had so totally and royally, (real royalty if of the Dwarvish variety), screwed up. That ring, that blasted, rotten, Orc shite, not fit for the compost heap, ring had been the trigger for the entire blasted mess, and then, then he had run back to the Shire rather than follow the Green Lady's will and help restore the lands around Erebor - which in turn had meant that there was not enough food for the dwarrow to expand their kingdom as it had been meant to. One bad choice after another, and although it had worked out, (if not well than at least it hadn't ended with Sauron winning), the Green Lady had not been at all pleased, nor had her husband Mahal the Smith. 

So here Bilbo was, sitting in his place at morning services, waiting for the eldest priestess, (his great-aunt Rose, youngest sister to his grandfather, the Old Took), to begin the Welcoming, and mentally dithering over what Yavanna had ordered him to do. There was so much to do! He had eight months before Thorin and the rest of the Company, including Gandalf, the meddler, showed up at his smial to begin the trek to the Lonely Mountain, but how was he to convince the rest of the Shire to feed the dwarrow caravans, supply them, welcome the dwarrow when they showed up, not to mention his own preparations, and how in Yavanna's Green Garden was he supposed to heal the lands around Erebor, and destroy that, that, that RING on his own?

He really should have known better. The moment the ringing voices of the priestess' from the Song of Welcome died, Lady Yavanna spoke. 

Now, it was well known that although the Valar did not walk Middle Earth anymore so as not to trigger another War of Wrath, they did speak to their priests and priestesses fairly often. Usually it was only their priests and priestesses during their ceremonies, but there were occasional exceptions, and Yavanna was the most notable as her ceremonies took place under the Party Trees - and any Hobbit that could attended so that if the Green Lady had anything to say they would all hear it, and could pass it on to those who had to stay away because of some inconvenience.

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The Dwarrow settlement in the mountains of Ered Luin was a poor place for Dwarves, but those who dwelt there had long faced hardships and were grateful for the small halls that had been reclaimed from the broken mountain range. They were no longer the starving, wandering dwarrow that had been sent running from Erebor, the Lonely Mountain and the dragon that had claimed their mountain and the treasure hoard contained within. Many of them still cursed Thror, King Under the Mountain for his gold sickness, and praised his grandson, King in Exile Thorin Oakenshield, for his constant hard work, both at the forge and in dealing with the necessary politics that had resulted in them being, if not housed in grandeur, at least no longer homeless, and if hungry, no longer starving.

Yes, Thorin was a dour dwarf, but having survived the deaths of most of his family, (and having most of those deaths take place in front of him), none blamed him for his dark, brooding scowl. Instead they praised him for ordering even the noble lords and councilors to work at their crafts so as to provide for their clan, and for opening a dining hall for everyone to be able to get a meal, even if it wasn't the best during the long months of winter, nor the most filling when the clan's coffers were tight. Any of the clan could get a meal for free, (and almost everyone did so at every meal time though there were many who worked through their lunches), and it was obvious that the royal family went without as often as the commoners did, because the royal family's place in the dining hall was at the front of the large room on a slight dais so that all could see exactly what the royals were having - which was exactly what everyone else was being served, and sometimes less. Greed among the Longbeard clan had swiftly become something that not even the worst of the traditionalist dwarrow would tolerate.

So it was with great unease that the gathered clan watched the four members of the royal family as the cooks brought out their breakfast. King Thorin, and his sister-sons, golden Crown Prince Fili, and his younger brother dark Prince Kili, looked shattered sitting next to Princess Dis. The watching dwarrow were well familiar with the look, so many of the survivors of Smaug the Terrible having lost their Ones to dragon fire, but to have all three of the male royals wearing the same look, and none of them having found their Ones to anyone's knowledge, could only mean that Mahal the Smith, the Father of the Dwarves, had spoken to them. No one was optimistic enough to think that the message had been a good one, so the only merry making was done by the few dwarflings as the elders waited to find out what new calamity was about to befall the Longbeard clan.

It was to this somber sight that the Priests of Mahal entered the dining hall in a small procession. There were few who had survived the dragon, but enough youngsters had taken up the priesthood in the years that followed that the clan was not entirely without those who could perform the necessary ceremonies. There were still not enough to make a great procession, but honestly that suited most of the clan at the moment. They were not the wealthy clan that they had been, and spending more than was necessary unless given freely from their hearts, was considered to be far too frivolous, especially when there were still young dwarflings going hungry at night.

High Priest Hean lead the procession carrying a small box in his ancient hands. His second, Priest Kradmek was carrying a quiver filled with arrows and the three priests that followed him each similarly carried something cupped in their hands, their faces lit with awe and reverence. Carefully, with much ceremony, Hean placed the box directly in front of Thorin. "This came from Mahal's own hand this morning, my king. He has told us this is for your One, who has a great task. This will help him complete the task the Valar have set before him. You are to tell him that it will contain that which needs to be contained. Prince Kili has been given a gift to help with his own task. Our Father has also gifted you and our Princes' a mark of his favor, to show us all that the Ones he has chosen for you have his blessing and that none shall gainsay their admittance into our clan and the Durin Line." 

With this announcement, each of the four priests laid the gifts before the Durin men and stepped aside. To the astonishment of all, three of the gifts were marriage beads, but such beads as those Mahal must have made for Durin himself, such was their luster and shine. Few could see the designs on them, but all could see the slight glow that showed these were made by the Great Smith himself. This set a loud muttering from around the hall, it not being what the gathered Dwarrow had been expecting at all. That all three of the unwed royals would have a One to claim was good news, although it was obvious that Mahal had something very unusual in mind. The Smith did not gift out marriage beads on a whim after all. The last gift, placed before Prince Kili was the quiver, one filled with arrows whose fletching looked black as night, but the sight of it had Kili blanching worse than he had since he had set down at his place this morning.

Thorin slowly stood up and waited for the muttering in the hall to silence. "Mahal gave I and my sister-sons a vision last night, as most of you have expected. The news he gave us is grave indeed, but as you can see, not without great promise as well. This must stay within the clan. No one outside of the Longbeards, including all other Dwarrow is to learn of this until the task that Mahal has set before us is complete. Many of you have wondered, and scoffed, that a Dwarrow Prince was drawn to the bow as his primary weapon. Now you learn why this is. Prince Kili has been charged with killing Smaug the Terrible."

Loud shouts and arguments erupted at every table, most remembering that Prince Kili had come of age just this morning, and others yelling that he was far too young to take on such a task. Thorin waited out the wave of sound, letting it die down on it's own. It was obvious that he had more to say, so it did not take long before most of the dwarrow were leaning forward to hear the rest of the news. "Mahal has given us the task of reclaiming Erebor at this time. A small group will travel to the Lonely Mountain and help Prince Kili in defeating the beast. On this journey, we three will meet our Ones. As many of you now suspect, not one will be a dwarrowdam. Mahal has declared that we will make alliances with all of the free peoples of Middle Earth, and our marriages are to be the ties that show our allies that we are serious. My One is a Hobbit, Prince Fili's is a daughter of Men, and Prince Kili's is a she elf of Mirkwood. 

"Lest you think that I have been told to forgive THAT ELF, I have not. But as Mahal pointed out to me the actions of one elf, king though he may be, are not the actions of every elf, and I must admit that Thror the Mad most likely made things much worse than they otherwise would have been. I was too young to be included, and most of you here had not been born, when Thror dealt with our allies in Dale and Mirkwood. We do not know what reason the elf may have had for not helping, but Mahal has said that there were reasons, and most of it could be laid at Thror's feet. We all know that our Mad King is to blame for much of what has happened to us over the last one hundred and fifty years. It would not surprise me to learn that Thror did something unforgivable to the Mirkwood elves. I will treat with the Prince, Legolas Greenleaf, and I will accept our Princesses-to-be, both the daughter of Man, and the she elf with open arms, for this is the will of our Father, though I will never forgive the Mirkwood king for turning his back upon our starving and wounded.

"In the coming days I will ask a small group to form a Company to leave at the beginning of spring. There is no shame in not being asked to come along on the quest itself, for much must be done to move our clan back to Erebor, and I will not have our clan stay here a moment longer than necessary. Princess Dis will oversee the caravans that will start out a month behind my Company. Make whatever preparations you can think of over this harvest season and winter. For now, continue with your meals, and pray to the Valar that our quest will be successful." With this Thorin sat down, pulling the box and beads closer to him as his sister looked over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

In the Shire all serious business was concluded over tea. It was a long standing tradition, and as such Bilbo found himself hosting the Thain, the Master of Buckland, the Mayor of Micheal Delving, and the heads of the most prominent families in the Shire for tea. Fortunately Mistress Gamgee and his maid of all work, Daisy Smallburrow were more than willing to help with the necessary cooking as Bilbo and Hamfast Gamgee hurried to set up enough places for that many guests to be served. Bilbo also had to hunt down his mother's copy of a map of Middle Earth, and several copies of the areas surrounding the Mirkwood, Esgoroth, Dale and the Lonely Mountain. 

After tea had been served, and proper respect had been paid to the meal, the Thain was the one to open the conversation concerning Yavanna's commands. "Well Nephew, I will be blunt. I never expected to hear the Green Lady solve the issue of our getting a little cozy here in the Shire in this manner."

Bilbo sighed. "I never even thought about that to be honest. I have been in a dither ever since she spoke to me about my part in this. To leave the Shire on an adventure at her request is one thing, but what she and the other Valar have placed before me is daunting. I had no idea how I was to heal all of the lands in question by myself. You have no idea, Uncle, how grateful I am that there will be other Hobbits following me to settle the lands around Erebor." He wasn't about to mention the Ring. That little matter he was keeping to himself, as it was honestly the entire reason that he had agreed to return to the past. Frodo would not suffer the taint of having to carry the cursed thing. He would not become the haunted, frail, echo of the Hobbit Bilbo had raised - not again. Bilbo would not allow it. Nor would he allow that dratted thing to influence his dwarrow again. There wasn't anyway for him to get rid of the Arkenstone, but if he could find a way to keep the Ring from spreading it's poison, then Valar willing, his dwarrow would not fall to the gold-sickness again. He was more than sure that the soggy serving, muddy, weak tea, offspring of an orc and a snake was behind much of that as well.

For that was what the Green Lady had commanded that morning; that Hobbits were to travel to the East and do their ancient duty of Healing the lands tainted by evil. It was what they had been created for at the end of the War of Wrath. In fact the Gladden Fields, which were now a green and fertile land, was once the place of devastating battles between good and evil and had been where their work had begun. Bilbo had no doubt that had the ancient Hobbits not been driven off by sickness, monsters and Gollum murdering poor Hobbits in their beds, (something that he was sure about as the old legends had an invisible monster as the culprit), the Brown Lands to the South of the Gladden Fields and Lorien would not be the wastelands they were today.

Thain Isengrim Took nodded as his fiddled with his pipe. "Well, let's get to planning. I know you, Bilbo. You have more knowledge of the lands outside the Shire than any other Hobbit with your study of maps and histories. What can you tell us?"

Bilbo stood and gathered up the maps that laid on a side table. He quickly passed them around and the other Hobbits gathered to peer at them. "The first thing is that there are two sources of evil that are contaminating the lands in question. The first is Smaug, a fire drake - that is a dragon - that took over a dwarrow, (which is the proper plural for dwarf), kingdom some one hundred and fifty years ago. The lands around Erebor, also known as The Lonely Mountain due to it's location, are now known as the Desolation of Smaug. Nothing grows there, not even moss or lichen." The Hobbits watched as Bilbo traced the area on the map. "Now this also includes in the once great Man city of Dale. The Men and Dwarrow fled the area, and the Men ended up here in Escorath, in a place called Lake Town."

Bilbo shuddered. "Honestly, I am astounded by the stupidity of Men, but they actually built the town on the lake itself." Most of the Hobbits around the table shuddered as well, although the Master of Buckland merely looked thoughtful. But then, the Brandybucks were an odd lot, always going out and about on the great Brandywine river. "The dragon's evil has infected the town as well, although there are still good Men there, but they are very poor and what few farms they have do not produce much. The Dwarrow fled, finally settling near here in the Blue Mountains." Here Bilbo paused and looked seriously around the table. "My fellow Hobbits, what I am about to tell you is very disturbing, so please brace yourselves."

Once he thought they were ready, Bilbo continued. "The Dwarrow have few faunts and they are starving now." Horrified gasps rang out as more than a few Hobbits reared back in horror at the mention of few babes and starvation, both of which were considered equally terrible things in the Shire. Bilbo nodded. "The Blue Mountains were their last resort in finding a new home, and the mountains do not have enough resources to sustain the Dwarrow. The Dwarrow children are going hungry even as we speak. I propose that that be our first order of business once I finish explaining about the lands Yavanna has ordered us to Heal. "

Without waiting for agreement, Bilbo then traced the outline of a great forest to the West of Lake Town and Erebor. "This is Mirkwood. Once it was known as the Greenwood, and is home to the Wood Elves. Here, at the Southern most tip of the forest lies Dol Guldur, an ancient fortress dating back to only the Valar know when. It has long been a dark place, but now what remains of the Great Enemy resides there. It will take the White Council to drive him out. Fortunately, that is not our problem. Our problem lies in healing the forest once he is gone."

"And the dragon?" Master Chubb asked. As the father of a large family himself Master Chubb was in the same position a lot of older Hobbits were - having marriagable aged children with few opportunities for them. Almost all of the farmland in the Shire was taken and as a population they were beginning to feel the pinch. Many of the Hobbit Heads of Family were looking at Yavanna's directive as the answer to their prayers and concerns.

"I will be leaving with a small group of Dwarrow to help deal with the dragon in eight months time," Bilbo admitted. "This is part of the task that has been set before me. What I can say, is that the dragon has a weakness that will allow it to be killed, and preparations have been made for that. Smaug should be dead by the end of autumn next year - and that brings us to the reason we have been told of this now. The Dwarrow will be returning to their mountain as quickly as they can for the sake of their younglings. The younglings need a living mountain above them to thrive as well as sufficient food for their needs. The mountain they will have, this I swear, but the food, that is something that is in serious question. Not only will they need enough food for their caravans as they move across Middle Earth back to their mountain, but they will need food to survive the winter and the hunger gap as well. For there is NOTHING there for anyone to eat at all."

"I've seen Dwarves as caravan guards in Bree," one Hobbit said. "One of the scariest things I'd ever seen, baring the Orcs from the Fell Winter. There is no reason that we could not send our own youngsters out with their caravans. That would solve the food problem and ensure the safety of those Hobbits making the trek as well."

"Hmm, send out several caravans," another one muttered, tracing what he thought would be a good route for the caravans to take. "We need to find out from the Dwarrow how long the journey is."

"Might need some Man sized wagons," another considered. "We'd be able to send more food that way."

"We'd need to send Bounders along," Isengrim mentioned. "As well as making certain that all of those choosing to settle have adequate skills with bow, sling and conkers. No telling what sort of fell things will be living at the edges of the new settlement, not to mention hunting for food in the wilds for the caravans."

"What I want to know is what are we going to do about the food situation in the Blue Mountains? It won't do for our new neighbors' faunts to starve before we even begin the journey!" the Mayor of Micheal Delving demanded to know.

Farmer Maggot stood up. "It looks to be an even better harvest this year than I'd expected. We should have plenty to share with the dwarves without shorting ourselves too much and still make a good profit from the sales to the Men in Bree to pay for what we'll need to outfit the caravans, including buying both wagons and oxen or horses to pull them. Personally I'd recommend the oxen. They're slower over roads, but just as good in the wilds and they're good for pulling a plow or eating if the situation gets truly dire next winter."

"Good fodder will be a concern, but that's more because I'm concerned about the state of the land," Bilbo admitted. "Mirkwood forest is sick, and what grass lands there are between the forest and the lake are most likely contaminated."

The Hobbits gathered around nodded grimly. It was something every Hobbit knew deep down in their bones, the feel of good land verses bad, and what the effects of such evil could be on those who lived on such land. In Hobbits this effect was much more pronounced, but it still held true for all of the races. "I think we could have a caravan ready to travel to the Blue Mountains in a week's time, filled with the first of the shared harvest," Farmer Maggot said.

"It'll be cold up near that Mountain, it always is," one of the older Hobbits said profoundly - never mind that he had never left the Shire, nor had he ever done much more than heard stories told by the rangers to the local faunts. "They'll need good sheep and goats, not to mention ready made blankets and good stout clothes." The rest of the afternoon was spent making plans and gossiping about who was likely to go and who would never be persuaded to leave the Shire.

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Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King in Exile, called Oakenshield, had never been so shaken as when he woke in his bed in Ered Luin after dying at the foot of Erebor after the conclusion of the Battle of Five Armies. The stern talking to he had gotten from Mahal, Father of all Dwarrow, had been worse than even the ones his mother, (one of the fiercest dwarrowdams he had ever met), had given him as a child, mostly because of just how disappointed Mahal had been in him. Although Mahal had told him that falling to the dragon-sickness had not been his fault, telling him that a ring of power and the dragon's curse on Erebor's gold combined had been the cause, he had more than disappointed Mahal in how he had dealt with the other races - elves in particular. 

Working in his forge over an order for a plow for the next spring's planting, Thorin was reminded of his errors every time he looked at his heir's face. His sister-sons, both of them dead before him in a battle that should never have taken place. Fili worked in the forge with him, a smaller order for a set of sickles upon his own workbench. Kili had taken himself off hunting as any meat or fur was vital for the clan to survive the winter, and the boy needed as much solitude as he could get at the moment to deal with his nerves. "What will we do about the dragon's curse on the gold, Uncle?" Fili asked as they both took a moment to rest. "That beast has been sleeping on that gold for more than a century. If we do nothing, it will spread beyond the mountain as we spend the gold." He did not mention how the gold-sickness had taken them both, but the memories were writ large upon his features for Thorin to see.

Thorin nodded, proud that Fili was thinking of preventing the dragon's curse from touching anyone else. "There is also the fact that some of that gold is most likely not part of Thror's hoard. I'm sure that Smaug did not abandon his original hoard, nor that he failed to add to it. There will be much work to do just figuring out which gold belongs to whom when it is time to deal with dispersing the hoard. I know that I saw the mark of Dale in the treasury as well as some elvish markings. When Tharkun comes I'll ask him what can be done to ensure that we are not giving out gold-sickness along with returning people's rightful gold to them. The dragon must die, but you are correct that the gold is just as much as a danger, if not more so than the dragon itself. I'm hoping that we don't have to smelt down the entire hoard in order to cleanse it. That would take a great deal of time and much of our history would be lost if that needs to happen, but I will order it done if that is the wizard's recommendation."

Fili nodded. "Much better to lose ancient history and prayers that hopefully have been recorded in the royal library, than to spread dragon-sickness." He paused before asking, "And what of the Arkenstone, Uncle?"

Thorin sighed. "I plan to give it to Bilbo. He's the only one that I can trust with it. Only a Hobbit would not be tempted by it and Bilbo has proven himself immune to it's call. I'm not sure that damned thing isn't cursed as much as the gold is."

Fili nodded before changing the subject. "I've spoken to Dwalin about needing to make sure that everyone is battle ready, either because they'll be going with us, or needed to guard the caravans." Unspoken was his curiosity over how Thorin was going to get the same group of dwarrow to come with them this time.

Thorin nodded. "Balin has demanded to go as we'll be dealing with setting up alliances and he's already recommended Ori as Company scribe and recorder, and I've told Dwalin that Nori is to be given a full pardon publicly if he joins the Company. (Unspoken was the knowledge that the Spymaster could not be acknowledged publicly as his position was a delicate one. A king needed someone among the thieves and criminals of his kingdom, and yet also needed to be able to trust the Spymaster completely. The fact that Nori was a cousin, albeit awkwardly and had taken on the role on his own to repay what help the royals had given the Ri family over the years made him more trustworthy than any other Dwalin could have found.) You know that Dori will not let her siblings go without her. I'll be meeting with the Stone talkers after dinner this evening. They spared Bofur and Bifur before, and I want to ensure that there are at least two Stone talkers in each caravan."

"We'll need to do something to assure that Bombur's family is taken care of when we go," Fili pointed out. The large dwarf was one of the very few who had a large family, having adopted some of the clan's orphans as well as having been blessed by Mahal in having four dwarflings, (two of them daughters!), of his own. Bombur's wife worked in the royal kitchens with him so there had never been time the two had not had work. They both had felt that they had the means, love and stability that the children would need to grow into sturdy and honorable dwarrow.

"You'll do no such thing, My Prince," came from the door to the smithy. There stood a dwarrowdam with her arms full of a meager lunch for the two royals. It was Kaes, Bombur's wife, with one of her children holding onto her skirt. "We'll get on well enough. There is always someone willing to help watch my little ones, and I'm honored that you'd select Bombur to be the cook for your Company." She came in and set down the two lunches on the bench between Thorin and Fili.

"We hope to take Bofur and Bifur as well," Thorin explained. "Their skills will be needed on the road, and I do not wish to take too much of your support from your kin without leaving something in their place to help take up their duties to you and your dwarflings." He took up his bowl of stew with a sigh. "It is hard to balance such things, but I would not leave any unaided if I can help it."

"I've enough minders for the littlest, and most of my brood have begun their apprenticeships. They are their Masters' problems most of the time. I'll not say that losing Bombur's wages from the kitchens won't put a strain on things, but thanks to Bifur and Bofur we've put some gold aside for emergencies. We can use that to get ready for the journey. I'll let Bombur know you want him for the position, and we'll start getting ready. Don't you worry about us. You've enough worries already looking after the rest of the clan. Now, get your lunches in you and I'll send one of my lads back for the dishes." With that, Kaes bustled on out of the smithy, leaving the two dwarrow a bit bemused and not a little threatened by the look the 'dam had sent them on her way out. 

Fili shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think that not having a 'dam as my One is such a bad thing," he said. "At least my One is unlikely to take her axe to my head if I make a mess of things."

Thorin laughed. "No, Sigrid will most likely take her father's bow and shoot you full of holes, if she does not have a bow of her own," he pointed out.

"Eh, it's not like I haven't had that happen to me before from Kili," Fili answered with a shrug before digging into his own stew. "What of Gloin and Oin?"

"I want you to approach them tonight while I talk with the Stone Talkers. Let your Amad know who we're thinking of taking so that she can work out who needs to go in which caravan. It wouldn't do for her to think she'll have one of them as a caravan master when they won't be here to take up the duty."

Fili wasn't happy about his uncle having him talk to the last two members of the Company, but he supposed he deserved it. Last time he and Kili had been idiots, bragging about how they were going to take back the mountain and teasing Gimli for being too young to go. Fortunately he was beyond such foolishness now, and he had an idea of how to insure that Gimli had something important to do. "I'll tell Gimli that he's to take Bilbo's wagon in the first caravan. That should help keep him from trying to come after us, and letting Gloin know that he's needed to take care of the treasury - the sorting and such, will bring him along. Oin will insist that we'll need a healer with us, and he won't be wrong," he said as he set his bowl down.

Thorin agreed. "You're right, and having Gimli take Bilbo's wagon will make for much less drama for all of us. We'd better get back to work," he said as put his own bowl down. Both dwarrow turned back to their commissions.

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Holly Smallburrow was the eldest of five daughters. She was a pretty Hobbit Lass, with long copper curls on her head, and thick copper curls on her feet. Her parents were servants of Master Baggins, head of the Baggins Clan. Her mother was a maid of all work and her father was the Baggins Estate's jack of all trades. Her family lived in a tenant cottage at the foot of the Hill, the site of Bag End, and the heart of the estate.

The Baggins Estate was the largest in Hobbiton, and was out shown in the West Farthing only by the Took estate in Tookburough. It encompassed several mills, (a grist mill, a fulling mill, and a saw mill), a smithy, a brewery, several vineyards, and many of the tenant farms all around Hobbiton. The tenant farms were of all sizes, and the one Holly's father rented was perhaps the smallest. 

Their cottage was made of well thatched, stout cob with three rooms on the main floor - her parent's bedroom, a large kitchen/eating area, and a large pantry. There was also a sleeping loft for faunts and a root cellar that was as large as the cottage itself. Three, one acre fields went with the cottage, all surrounded by hedges made from useful plants like fruit trees, and berry or rose bushes. For these and other things Master Baggins was considered to be the most generous landlord in all of the Shire, for he could have easily have treated his tenants much worse and still be considered quite respectable. There were tenant cottages in other parts of the Shire that weren't nearly so well tended and repaired, and that was to say nothing of what went on in places where the Big Folk lived.

Holly and her twin sister Ivy were 30 years of age, and when the news that half of the Shire was going to the East began to make the rounds, she had decided that she was going to claim a farm, and perhaps a dwarf husband, of her own. Holly's father was determined to be in the first caravan, and was deep in planning both what they would need to take with them, and how much land he was going to claim for their family.

"You'll see, my darling Daisy! We'll get a good chunk of land near that forest, and you'll never have to keep any home but ours ever again! Our girls will be able to raise lots of sheep and goats for profit for themselves. They'll have trades of their own, aye and land too! Perhaps they'll even have lads come courting once we're established!"

"As if I'd ever allow a dwarf to do for our Master Baggins! My family and yours has done for the Baggins family for generations and we're not about to stop now, no matter that our circumstances are changing!" Daisy told her husband as she bustled around the kitchen. It was Harvest season and everyone in the Smallburrow family was busy, even the youngest girl, Daylily, was stringing apple slices to dry. "I'd rather live closer to that mountain so that I can easily get to Master Baggins' new home. That big river starts there and I'm certain that we can find a good spot of land with a stream on it. There's less chance of nasties too. I've heard that that forest is full of giant spiders and moving trees. We've the faunts to think of. Plus, if you want lads to come calling on our lasses, them dwarf lads are more suitable than any of the Big Folk. It's best to be closer to where they live."

"Dwarves?" Turpin paused, the meat mixture he was stuffing into casings to make sausages clinging to his fingers. He hadn't even thought of Dwarves as husbands for their daughters, although it was true that most if not all of the Hobbit lads were spoken for. Turpin sighed, then got back to stuffing sausages. "You're right, my love. We must think of the faunts first, and a dwarf would be much better than one of the Big Folk." Not that it hadn't been done before, but while one of the Tooks had taken an Elf to wife, the Smallburrow family was much more sensible than that. He looked over at his set of twin daughters, who were cooking up the inbetweens - cuts of pork that were neither ham, nor bacon or to be ground into sausage. These were put into crocks covered in rendered lard, well preserved for the winter.

"Mum's right, Da," Holly said, catching his look. "You know we should have had at least one suitor between the five of us by now, even if Daylily has only just reached tweenhood. I think that the Green Lady means for us to marry Dwarves. Why else did so many lasses sprout in our generation? It's never happened before now, and with us being sent to live near that mountain, it only makes sense that's what she had planned."

Ivy chimed in, "Thanks to Master Baggins gifting Holly and I a piglet each at his birthday party four years ago, we've been able to sell pigs to the butcher for the last three years. That's allowed us to save 14 silvers each for our dowries, which was what I'm certain Master Baggins had in mind. Holly and I are going to use that to establish farms right next to each other."

"Hmmm," their father muttered. He stood and moved to the edge of the fireplace to hang his sausages. The smoke from the fire would preserve them so that they would last all Winter, and for part of the Spring.

"They're right, and with them married and us owning our own farm, we could try planting again. Perhaps this time the Green Lady will grant us a son," Daisy pointed out. It wasn't unheard of for couples to plant more faunts when their circumstances changed.

"You're right, all of you. To the foot of the mountain we'll go. It won't be that much different from living at the bottom of the Hill," Turpin agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo sat at his desk going over the family trees of the Hobbits of the Shire and Buckland. There was some very careful pruning that needed to be done in order for certain yet-to-be-born Hobbits to be allowed to grow up together. His Frodo would not be lacking in his closest friends. Sam was easy. Young Hamfast Gamgee was already an accomplished land healer, as was his father's cousin and master, Holman Greenhand. Both Hobbits worked as Bilbo's gardeners. No one would be surprised that he asked them to go. Bell Goochild's family, well if he remembered correctly, Bell was just of age, and there was time enough between now and the caravan's journey for a wedding, if the Goodchilds did not wish to go. 

Pippin and Merry would be much, much harder. Both lads had grown up to be the leaders of the Shire and Buckland the last time, and even attempting to take their parents would not be welcomed. Or perhaps.... Bilbo thought a moment and consulted the family trees once more. He could ask that the lads' parents come as future leaders of the new settlements - one near the mountain and one nearer to the forest. That would take care of it, and there were plenty of other heirs for the Master of Buckland and the Thain to choose from to carry on here in the Shire. 

Every Hobbit's name was followed by their trade and the notation that showed if they were a Land Healer. There were a disturbing amount of Land Healers born in the last two generations of Hobbits, Bilbo thought, but with the quest and the Green Lady's command, well that was now understandable. 

"Master Bilbo?" Daisy Smallburrow called.

Bilbo looked up, jolted from his musings over who to ask the Thain for. Daisy was standing in the door to his study. "Yes?" he asked, confused.

Daisy smiled. Master Bilbo often found himself in a bit of a muddle when he was writing. "I'm here to let you know that I'm off to my cottage for the night. The wood in the kitchen is stocked up, and the rest of the cleaning is done. Your clothes are folded and on your bed, and if you're going to get new things for the Journey I'll have my Holly let the tailor know to expect you when she goes to Market in the morning."

"I had no idea it was so late," Bilbo said, a bit ashamed that he'd let himself get so involved in his planning. He'd actually forgotten to eat dinner! That wasn't such a bad thing though, as he would have to start getting used to eating three meals a day. No better time to start than now. "That is an excellent idea, Daisy," Bilbo said. "I'm going to be out in the wilderness with a bunch of dwarves for just over half a year. I'm going to need at least two new sets of clothing in Bounder quality cloth. Honestly, as nice as my regular clothes are, they just aren't up for strenuous travel. Thank you for reminding me."

"Your welcome," Daisy said. "Now, Master Bilbo, I'll let you know that you're the best landlord in all of Hobbiton, and we tenants got together this morning to figure out who among us was willing to go on the Long Journey to your new estate. I've a list of those among your tenants who've decided to go this Spring, if you're amendable, as well as a list of those who were willing to wait, but still wish to go and a list of those who are requesting a chance to establish their own farms. I'm certain that you'll be seeing others from around Hobbiton as well. As for Turpin and I, we and our tweens are going this Spring. You'll not have to do with some dwarf who doesn't know a wash pan from a forge tool once you're settled near that mountain," Daisy said with a sniff, as she handed over the lists.

"Oh, thank you!" Bilbo cried, as he took the lists. "Do let everyone know that I'm taking part or all of the rents until I leave in food, seed stock or medicinal supplies. I'll use that to fill my wagon, and that way the tenants will be able to use the money to get other things for the Journey."

"Thank you as well, Master Baggins! That will help tremendously." Daisy said happily. "You just let Turpin know when you've made your decision about who is best to go when, and we'll start preparing. There are a few rumors that those with glass houses have decided to grow some storage crops this Fall and Winter, rather than the usual trying to make the tomatoes and other finicky crops last longer. We're all behind you and wish you luck in dealing with that dragon. I'm sure those dwarves will keep you safe, and may the Green Lady hold you in her hand." With that, the Hobbitess turned and left.

Bilbo looked after her in befuddlement. He'd had no idea that his tenants were backing him so completely on this journey. He knew he wasn't a bad landlord. He took pride in how well he managed the estate, but for so many to follow him to Erebor! And to actually say that they were wishing him good fortune! The last time he'd gone on this quest he'd come back to tenants who only spoke to him on business, and stressed the difference in their classes as a way to shun him. Oh the difference the Green Lady had made! 

Bilbo frowned to himself. He hadn't yet looked at what he would be leaving behind. That would never do, not with the support he was getting this time. He pulled over his own family tree and looked it over. He was taking Drogo to be his heir to his new estate and Primula to be his heir to his position as the neutral party/mediator - which he was determined to create because the stubbornness of the idiots in charge. Really! Getting Thrandruil, Bard and Thorin in one tent together was just asking for a shouting match and at least one attempt to start a war! He wasn't about to leave his estate and the Baggins clan to the Sackville-Baggins, so who did that leave?

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Dis watched the males in her family at their nightly activities - Thorin, brooding over a map, Kili working on making arrows, and Fili, going over a list. "You'll need more arrow heads," Fili told his brother. "I'll make more in the morning."

Kili nodded as Thorin added. "You'll need to learn to read and speak the elves' language as well. Balin knows some of it, I think. Tell him that you need to add that to your lessons tomorrow. Get some parchment and ink from Ori to practice with on the journey. You'll need to be able to make yourself understood by the time we get to Rivendell."

"He's going to need to stuff a lot of diplomacy into my head if I'm to get the Mirkwood king to listen to me," Kili sighed. "I know that we need him and his people, but he's still not someone I wish to talk to."

"Especially since you're going to be stealing away his Captain of the Guard," Fili teased.

"At least I'm not going to be stealing away his eldest," Kili taunted in return.

"Mahal forbid! Who'd want that princeling anyway?" Fili questioned, avoiding talking about his own One.

"He is a strong fighter," Thorin pointed out. "And if Kili can get him on our side, he will be an ally worth cultivating, if only so I don't have to talk to Thranduil himself."

Dis was observant and knew her sons well, but she waited until Kili and Thorin had taken to their beds before confronting Fili. "You refused to speak of her, this eldest daughter."

Fili looked down at his feet in shame. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to never speak of Sigrid - at least until after he'd had a chance to do things over again - he knew he couldn't hide anything from his mother. "I didn't recognize her, Amad. My One, and it wasn't until Uncle spoke of our Ones the next morning that I realized who she is."

Dis smiled. "I knew your father for two years, seeing him only when he set up his stall in the marketplace at the town of Men we were in, before I realized that he was my One. Sometimes it takes time."

"You want to know about her," Fili said, leaning over with his elbows on his knees and head hanging. No matter what his mother said, it was still shameful to him as even Thorin had known who Bilbo was to him. It was one of the reasons he'd been such an orc shite ass to the Hobbit before the Carrok, although Fili didn't know if that was because Bilbo was a Hobbit or because he hadn't wanted his One on such a dangerous quest with them.

"Of course I do. Thanks to your teasing I know the she-elf is Kili's One and that she is the Captain of the Guard for Mirkwood. Quite an accomplishment; but I know nothing of yours save she is an eldest Daughter of Man."

"Honestly I don't know much more," Fili admitted. "The vision Mahal showed me - it was not one of great joy or glory, Amad. He showed me what would happen if we went on the quest and kept to our isolation from the other free people of Arda. Far too many people died, Amad; people who did not deserve it, and I saw it all as though I was living it. Kili was ill, the little time I spent with her, so I honestly did not pay that much attention. Now I see that was a mistake. What I can tell you is that she is a descendant of Lord Girion of Dale, and it is thanks to him that Kili has a chance to kill Smaug."

"How?" Dis demanded to know. She needed to understand how her baby boy would be able to kill the monster that had chased her through her nightmares as a child.

"When Smaug attacked, Lord Girion shot at him with Black Arrows. He was not able to kill the beast, but he did strike the drake, loosening and breaking off one of his scales over his left breast. The arrows that Kili has now will be able to strike true," Fili reassured his mother.

"Still, a single small scale is a tiny target on such a large foe," Dis lamented. 

"One he will be able to hit," Fili reassured her. "And if not, then it will fall to Bard again. He is an excellent bowman and the Black Arrow he has from Girion will strike true should he need to make the shot. Our people will return to Erebor. It is only a question of how - and who will lead after."

Dis wanted to protest immediately, but the princess of Durin's folk was no fool. "Who fell in your vision, Fili?" she demanded to know.

"There will be a battle, Amad. Two armies of Orcs will fall upon the mountain, and if we do not get the alliances that Mahal wishes for us to make, all three of us will fall. Dain will rule Erebor, no matter how little he wishes to," Fili admitted. "With better alliances, we will be able to field more Men, Dwarrow and Elves to protect the mountain." He looked up at this and leaned over, grabbing one of his mother's hands. "This is the reason that we must make an alliance with the Hobbits. Food and medicines are major trade items for them, and anything that can be grown flourishes under their care. They will have enough to trade with us so that we will be able to heal the fighters and still allow everyone invited to winter in Erebor to be fed."

"Dain," Dis gasped, clinging to Fili's hand. "Dain will not rule in Thorin's place, nor in yours, my son. This then, is the reason for the vision you were blessed with. The first caravan to leave Thorin's Halls will be there before the battle begins, no matter what my brother thinks is best. I'll bring along as many warriors as we can spare as well."

"Only if you do not come, Amad," Fili demanded. "We will need you to lead the people here for some time yet - and I have no wish to have you be one of the wounded at the battle. Kili, I, and Uncle risking ourselves because we are needed is one thing, risking what could be the last of the eldest line of Durin is something completely different. I know that you do not want to hear this, but though you have lost your One in our father, you are still young enough to bear should the worst happen. I would have you take the throne and bear another child, rather than allow yourself to be consumed with grief as you were in my vision."

Dis flinched, but she could see that Fili was unmoved. This vision at Mahal's hands had done what no amount of caravan guard work and following her and her brother around had been able to do. Fili was no longer the light hearted Prince-in-exile that he had been. Now he was a Crown Prince in truth, one able to see the hard truth and ram it down a stubborn Dwarrowdam's throat when needed. Before she'd heard Fili speak, she would have roared in denial at anyone even attempting to force her into another marriage, but she was a daughter of Durin, and Fili spoke nothing more than Mahal's own truth. She was still young enough to bear, and Fili had said nothing of marriage. No, he had spoken only of another child, and that only if he and his brother were to fall in battle. She seized on that qualifier. "Only if you and your brother fall in the battle to come will I take the throne, and that only to reign as Regent to a child I will bear only if that comes to pass. Dain will not rule Erebor, this I swear to you, Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain."

Fili nodded in relief and Dis spoke again. "But it will not come to pass, as you, Kili, and that foolish brother of mine will survive this quest. Now, you have diverted this conversation enough. Who is this eldest daughter, descendant of Girion? Tell me what you can of her."

Fili sighed and released her hands. "Her name is Sigrid, and she is the eldest daughter of a Man named Bard, an archer and bargeman of Laketown. She has two younger siblings, a brother named Bain and a sister named Tilda. In my vision, while Kili was sick in her home we were attacked by orcs. She fought them off by breaking crockery over their heads as she had no weapons at hand....."

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Holly Smallburrow carefully went over her list of items she would need to establish her own smial. It wouldn't need to be big at first, just large enough for a kitchen, a bedroom, and food storage. It needn't be any larger than the small cottage that she had grown up in really. She was very glad that Master Bilbo insisted on teaching all of the fauntlings on his estate to read and write. She didn't think that she'd be able to remember everything otherwise. 

"How do you want to divide up our bedding?" Ivy asked, going over her own list. 

Supper was over and all of the Smallburrows were sitting down for the one time of day that they had to relax. It was a rough life being poor, but Holly had hopes that in a few short years that would be behind them. "I think that I'll start a new quilt tomorrow, so you can take the one we have now. I'll buy a new mattress and sheets if I can take the blanket?"

Ivy went over her own list again before nodding in agreement. The bed they shared was evenly divided that way, and she'd rather have a new blanket than a new mattress and sheets. "I'll start a quilt as well. If you buy a smaller mattress and sheets you might be able to make two quilts. I can buy a new blanket and fold that and the new quilt up, so I'll be nice and warm."

"It's so good to see you lasses helping each other with this," Turpin said, as he worked on knitting himself a scarf. "Do remember that you'll need to buy an ox each so that you'll be able to plow your new fields. That's thirty coppers per ox and probably the most expensive part of starting a new farm. If I might make the suggestion, you'd be well off to breed your sows this month, rather than leave it 'til Spring. Selling feeder pigs in the Spring will bring you in more money and those you don't sell will provide meat for us on the road."

The girls nodded, bending over their lists. Farming tools, kitchen tools, and everything else would very likely take all of their savings, but it would be worth it to not end up as scullery maids, unable to marry or have a home of their own. Being a spinster was nothing that either girl wanted. "Ivy, can I have one of your pigs this Spring?" Bluebell asked. Bell was the middle sister of the lasses and as such was very interested in how her sisters were planning their farms. While it would be almost a decade before she reached her majority, it wouldn't hurt to start now, and a piglet was how her sisters had each started to save the money needed.

"Can you get me some fur this winter?" Ivy asked. "I'll trade you for that. A fir lined cloak will be a blessing, I think."

Bell agreed. There weren't large fur bearing animals in the Shire, especially near Hobbiton, but there were plenty of stoats, foxes, squirrels and martins. A few trap lines, and going out with her conker would let her find enough animals to line a cloak, and maybe even more than one. Plus there was the fur from the rabbits she raised, thanks to Master Baggins. They would need as much as she could find and tan for next Winter in that mountain. She'd take her best rabbits with her, and butcher the rest this Spring. It would be easy enough to tan the hides on the road.

Daisy was skirting the fleece that she'd gotten at the market that morning. "You girls can have the wool I can't use for yarn to stuff your quilts. We can use the wool grease to water proof our cloaks and some canvas to make bedrolls for putting under the wagon. Turpin, Master Baggins is letting us trade food, medicine and seed stock for the rent until we leave for Erebor, so that we can use the rent money for getting ready for the Long Journey."

Daylily and Snowdrop, the youngest Smallburrow lasses, grinned at each other over the shawls they were knitting. It was a calming activity, one that was both useful in that the items knitted were needed, and one that helped excited tweens to sleep once they were past their fauntling days. There were hard days ahead of them, but there was so much promise that none of them minded. They were going to Erebor!


	4. Chapter 4

AUGUST 14

It was Kili who was lucky enough to spot the Hobbit caravan while on his way back to the halls after a good morning's hunt. He'd managed to find and kill a large buck deer as well as several rabbits. The buck would provide venison, leather, bone and horn for the clan and the rabbits would provide meat and fur, all of which was needed. "HO, THE CARAVAN!" he called, as he easily held the large carcass on his shoulders, while the rabbits swung from his belt. He had no idea why Hobbits of all people would be traveling to the Blue Mountains, or why they were driving Man sized wagons, but it was bound to be an important matter to bring the reclusive people out of their own lands. He honestly missed the Company's Burglar from their last life and hoped that this group would prove as friendly as Bilbo had been, and hopefully would be again.

"HO, MASTER DWARF!" came the call from the caravan leader. 

Kili shifted his burden a little and joined the small caravan, walking beside the lead wagon. "What business brings you to Thorin's Halls, Master Hobbit?" he asked. 

"Well now, that's quite the tale, and it's to be told to yer king first thing," the Hobbit said easily, as he guided the six pairs of oxen pulling his Man sized wagon. "Suffice it to say for now that we Hobbits got told to do some things by our Green Lady - her husband's the one that made your lot from what I understand, and we're here to start things off right with that."

Kili blinked, astonished. It had never occurred to him that Yavanna, the Green Lady, wife of Mahal, would take an interest in her husband's children, although considering the timing, and Bilbo's presence in the Company the first time, he supposed it made sense. "Well, it's never wise to stand in the way of the Valar. I'll see to it that King Thorin is waiting for you at the entrance to to Thorin's Halls so that your Lady's work can go as quickly as possible."

"You have my thanks, lad. There is much to be getting on with these days. Oh, and if you could see to it that there is hot water for tea waiting, we'd be obliged. You can't have a serious discussion without tea, you know," the Hobbit said wisely.

"So I've heard," Kili said with a smile, and began jogging off to the main Hall. He remembered some of Bilbo's explanations of Hobbit culture to Ori, and that one tidbit had led to a two day discussion with Dori over the different types of tea, and customs of when, where and why they were appropriate. It had given Kili a headache, but he still remembered. 

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The Thain looked at the gathered Dwarrow in front of the large gates to the Dwarrow settlement and was forcefully reminded of how Bilbo had told him that they were starving. The meager offerings on the table were backed up by the uncomfortable looks on the faces of those posed to serve them. Well, he was no Sackville-Baggins to dismiss such an effort on the part of those who had little to offer, and were probably giving more than they could afford to out of sheer pride. What he had originally planned wasn't going to work, but that was easily changed. "I am Isengrim Took, Thain of the Shire, and I am here to speak with Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin's Folk, if it can be arraigned."

One of the Dwarrow present, a tall and darkly brooding sort, stepped forward. "I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. Greetings Thain Took, and be welcome in my Hall." He gestured to the small pavilion. "Please be seated so that I may offer you tea, and we can discuss the business that brings you so far from your home." Isengrim accepted and the two leaders sat down. "I understand from my sister-son that the Green Lady has sent you." Thorin said, cradling a thick mug of tea, even as Dori served a much nicer cup to the Thain.

"Thank you," Isengrim said as he accepted the tea cup and a small plate of tea cakes from a large dwarf who looked almost acceptably round in Hobbit terms. "Our Lady has ordered us to heal the land surrounding your Lonely Mountain, King Thorin, but in order to do that, we have to get there." He gestured to the Hobbits on either side of him. "As you can see we Hobbits are not warriors. We are not helpless, but we've not the strength of arms your folk are well known for. So, we need guards to escort us and we have work for your smiths in order to set up smials and farms. Many of our young folk are taking up the challenge of bringing life back to the desolation and they'll need outfitting. What we have to exchange is food and animals." The Thain gestured to the wagons behind him. "There is an example of what we have to offer. Shall we look things over so we can get down to bargaining?"

Thorin nodded gravely and allowed the Thain to show him what the wagons contained. As the Dwarf King looked over the side of the wagon, Isengrim caught the look of relief Thorin tried to hide. Bilbo had been right and he was glad that he had changed his mind on how to deal with the Dwarrow. Pride was probably all these people had left, and by The Green Lady he was not about to trample on that.

Thorin turned to the smaller hobbit. He was a bit suspicious about this bounty, considering who had accompanied the Thain to Thorin's Halls, but one did not argue with the Valar, and it seemed that this Hobbit was of similar mind as the Dwarrow regarding such orders. "How many households will be needing such supplies as we can provide?" he asked. 

Isengrim sighed. "About two thousand Hobbits are planning on traveling this coming Spring - all in all, there will be 25,000 Hobbits leaving the Shire when we are done with this moving business. That is half of my people, King Thorin. So you can see that I have quite the situation on my hands." Isengrim pulled out a list written in Westron. "This is what my nephew, my sister-son as you call it, has figured out that each wagon will need, taking into account what each family already has. That's 500 wagons all together for the first year, and probably about the same until all those who decide to travel have done so. It is my thought that breaking up that number into multiple caravans would be best, but you would know more about that than I or any of my people. We do not travel as a rule, and certainly not in such numbers since the Wandering Days."

Thorin shook his head. "That is too many to travel this coming Spring. Not only will next Winter be the hardest with only what supplies the caravan can bring, we will only have enough time for one or perhaps two caravans to make the journey. Winter comes early and hard in Erebor, and we will be snowed into the mountain by the end of October. We cannot enter the mountain before the first of October and we will have to deal with Smaug and the orcs that will be in the area. I would not subject your people to such a poor welcome as to leave them vulnerable to these dangers."

Isengrim looked grim. Bilbo had already told him that there would be a great need for healers of people as well as the land the first Winter. That was probably why. It was a good thing that they'd already planned for that. As it was, many of the Hobbits were looking a little faint. "It will be another Fell Winter then. Orcs and wolves decimated our lands when the Brandywine river froze that year," he said. "While no Hobbit wishes to live through another one, the land around your mountain is poisoned. Without 500 wagons this size to carry supplies - and only supplies - your people and mine will not survive. I speak not only of starvation, but of cold and illness. No few of these wagons will be filled with healers' supplies, for wounds as well as winter ills, and the rest will be filled with grains and other foods that store well. 

"We will have to bring in good hay and other supplies for the needs of the herds we will bring with us. Those animals that will not be slaughtered for winter use must be confined to the mountain until the first farms can be healed of the poison. There will be four Hobbits for every wagon, two to guard and one to drive, and the last will drive a pony cart with the personal goods belonging to those Hobbits. Every Hobbit will be able to hunt and forage or heal people or land. I will not send them otherwise."

Thorin nodded, and ducked underneath the wagon to examine the craftsmanship. "This is a Man built wagon. It would never make it across the Misty Mountains. Our ore wagons are bigger and they are sturdy enough to move through mountains. They must to be able to get our trade items to the market in the towns of Men. We can load one with both your supplies and the contents of the Hobbits' homes so that a pony cart is not needed. It would not make the journey," he said as he returned to stand with the Thain. He gestured to Dwalin and instructed him to bring him a map of the lands around Erebor.

Thorin gestured to Thain Took to return to their meager meal. "125 ore wagons in each of two caravans can make the journey in time if they leave the first two weeks of April. Much of the old East-West road must be repaired, and I will be sending stone masons in the first caravan to do just that. They will be fighters, but most of their skill lies in the crafting of stone. Once the road is repaired, then there can be more caravans per year."

"I would still send 500 wagons, even if they are bigger, your majesty. It simply means that much more will be able to go in the way of supplies. We chose the Man made wagons because they are larger than our own," Isengrim explained. "We are of course expecting to pay for the wagons and the oxen to pull them as well what is on those lists."

Thorin nodded as Dwalin received a map from a runner and handed it to him, before returning to standing guard. "Ah, here we are." Thorin traced the East-West road from the Shire to Mirkwood. "The forest here is tainted, and it will be the hardest part of your journey. There are giant spiders and other such dangers. It is however, the easiest path through Mirkwood. I hope to have something of an alliance with the Mirkwood elves before the caravan gets there. With the Valar's blessing, you should have an escort through, but that does not mean it will be safe. That is where your people will need to be at their wariest. You expressed concern for your herds." 

Thorin moved his finger towards the River Running. "This is the River Running. It leads straight North to Erebor. The lands on this side," he gestured to the lands South of the Sea of Rhun, "are a wild prairie full of grasses and herds of wild cattle and horses. It has not been touched by the poison of Smaug or the evil that lives in the Mirkwood. It will be safe to harvest hay for your herds there, and the wild cattle can be hunted to fill the larders of Erebor. The Men of Laketown can be counted on to provide fish and other supplies as I intend for them to winter in Erebor as well. I have been told that they will not survive the armies of orcs that will come if they are left vulnerable." Thorin glanced at Bilbo as he said this, wondering if his One had been returned as well, but not expecting it. 

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Bilbo had been lurking, watching Thorin and his uncle from over his uncle's shoulder, but when Thorin glanced at him, he decided to take a chance. "By the time the caravans reach the Mirkwood, the White Council should be done with their work in clearing out the Great Enemy," Bilbo said, reaching out to touch the map at Gol Dulgur. "The Land Healers will be needed to get the caravans through the forest, even with an escort from the elves, but the darkness that lies on that forest is directly tied to HIM, so it should lessen the longer HE is gone." Then he glanced at Thorin. "As long as we're able to prepare the mountain to shelter the Men, Dwarrow and Hobbits over the Winter, and are prepared for a large number of them to be wounded in the battle to come, we should make it to Spring."

Thorin sighed, this then was the sign he had both hoped for, and had not wanted to see. Bilbo had also been returned, for only those who had knew about the battle. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box that he had been given. He had kept the box on his person as having it reminded him that soon he would see Bilbo again. "This was given to our High Priest from Mahal himself. He said that the Valar had given you a task, Bilbo, and that this would help you in that task. It will contain that which needs to be contained."

Thorin handed over the box, and watched as Bilbo carefully opened it. The inside of the box appeared to be nothing special, simply lined with a grey cloth and having two indentations; one in the shape of a ring and the other - well, Thorin had obsessed about the Arkenstone long enough that he knew the cursed stone would fit into the second place precisely. "Oh thank the Green Lady and her Lord," Bilbo whispered. He clutched the small box to his chest. 

Fili and Kili could no longer wait, and both swept Bilbo into a crushing hug. "Mister Boggins! You were given the vision too!" they cried. It was Fili who whispered, "We've not told any that the Valar sent us back in time. We are so glad to see you."

"Yes, yes, now unhand me, you confusticating dwarves!" Bilbo cried, barely able to take a breath. He looked up at Thorin as the boys allowed him to breathe, but did not let go. "There are things that the Green Lady has charged me to do, Thorin, and she well, I know what NOT to do. The stop in the Misty Mountains, it's vital that it goes the same on my part at least. There's a - well, there's what's left of a Hobbit there, and the Green Lady has asked me to send him home to her." Knowing that the Hobbits would think nothing of it, he dragged his finger over the indentation for the ring. 

Thorin nodded. He remembered Mahal's promise, that the gold sickness wasn't his fault; that it had been caused by the dragon's curse on the gold and a ring of power. The only such ring that he was aware of was Bilbo's invisibility ring, and if Bilbo was on a quest for the Valar, well the ring was probably evil enough to strike the dwarrow with gold sickness all on its own. He had no wish to have his One instructed to deal with such evil, but hadn't he, himself told Fili that Bilbo was the only one he trusted with the Arkenstone, cursed rock that it was? He would put his trust in Mahal.

"There will be no problem stopping to see to your lost kinsman, Bilbo," Thorin promised. "But if we're going to be dealing with the goblins as well as the battle, I wish for you to get more practice with your letter opener." He took Bilbo's hands in his own, wrapping them around the box and closing it. "The mithril shirt is probably the second most valuable thing in the treasure hoard. I would give it to you, not as you wore it in the vision, but as a courting gift, one that will be a promise of protection...if you are willing to have me, idiot dwarf that I am."

Bilbo teared up a bit, knowing that Thorin was promising that the incident on the battlements would not happen a second time. "Moving the Men into Erebor for the Winter? Am I to take it that you will be willing to treat with the Elves as well?" he asked. It wasn't an answer, but he wanted to know more about what Thorin was planning.

Thorin grinned. "Kili will be the Ambassador to the Mirkwood, his marriage to the Captain of the Mirkwood guard a pledge to show that I am serious about a true alliance. Fili will wed the eldest daughter of the King of Dale for the same reason," he promised Bilbo.

Bilbo frowned, a bit distracted from Thorin's proposal, and looked at the boys. He knew that Tauriel was Kili's One, and he hoped that Sigrid was the same for Fili as well. "I do hope that you two realize that you're going to have to do a lot more than just propose on the spot to your ladies, lads. You'll have to properly court them first, manners and all. There will be plenty of opportunity to learn their courting customs. Tauriel is a Silvan Elf, and it makes a difference. As for the royal family of Dale, well, Sigrid's mother was from Rohan, and I suggest that the two of you take a job as caravan guards for a trip down there to learn the customs. Fili didn't have much time before with Sigrid, and I'd really prefer for that to go well."

"Good idea, Master Boggins," Kili said with a smile. "We can't have the crown prince mucking things up, after all." Fili growled, released Bilbo and chased his brother back to the other side of the pavilion. For once, Bilbo noted, they weren't engaged in a wrestling match. It seemed that the boys had grown from the circumstances of their deaths. Thorin simply shook his head, an indulgent look on his face. 

"As for you, your broody majesty, I meant what I said, but I will not be your Consort," Bilbo said, referring to their conversation on the battlefield. "I have my own tasks from the Valar and once they are over, should I survive, I will be willing to be your husband. However I wish to hold a neutral position of authority rather than speak for the dwarrow. The Lady knows that getting you, Thrandruil, and Bard to agree on anything without starting a war is a task in and of itself. I'll bring an heir to that position so that when I have to leave for my last task there will still be a reasonable voice to keep the three of you from stabbing each other. There's no guarantee that I will survive though. The task is daunting, and will take me some years to complete. Your people do not need a Consort that will not be there," Bilbo said firmly warned. 

"I am honored that you are will to grant me even that much," Thorin declared. "And I agree, you Hobbits make good mediators. I am certain that your heir will be most welcome in our councils."

"Good," Bilbo nodded. "See that she is." He ignored the sputtering and surprised glances from the Hobbits around him. He liked occasionally putting the fox in the hen house, and it would do the lads good to get used to the idea. It wasn't like he was suggesting that the next Thain be a woman, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwarrow verses Dwarf. Dwarf is singular, and dwarrow is plural, but this is known only to those Hobbits who have a higher education, and or, are those who deal with dwarrow on a regular basis. That's why not all of the Hobbits refer to the dwarrow they talk about as dwarrow, rather they use the more common Men's term of dwarves.
> 
> Also, Farmer Maggot is making certain assumptions when he gives advice out to Holly. Just saying - he thinks he knows what's what, but not necessarily. ;)

Bilbo reached over and poured two cups of tea for his young guests, and another for their father. He studiously ignored their stares at the braid and bead that hung down just in front of his right ear. He was still getting used to the weight of it himself, and a bit in delighted shock about what it meant, (he'd thought that he was going to have to go and aggressively court that thick-skulled idiot of his the dwarven way in order to get Thorin to even consider marriage. He hadn't expected Thorin to propose the same day they met again), but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Right now the important things were Drogo and Dodo. 

Fosco Baggins and his sons were welcome guests in his home, and always had been. Drogo was one of his favorite cousins after all, and would one day be the father of his dearest Frodo; but this was tea time, and tea time was for business. It was time to set his plan before their father. "Cousin Fosco, as you know I will be leaving for Erebor in the Spring. However, I have a great number of responsibilities here in the Shire that must also be taken care of. I wish to make both Drogo and Dodo my heirs. Dodo to the Baggins Estate here in the Shire, and Drogo to my new estate at the foot of Erebor. I will require their services over the next months, so that they will be able to learn how to manage an estate, and how I wish for things to continue after I'm gone."

Fosco nearly choked on his tea. That was not what anyone in Hobbiton was prepared for, (and it wiped Bilbo's unusual hairstyle completely out of his mind). Otho Sackville-Baggins had been swaggering about for the last three weeks believing, as most did, that he would be the heir to the Baggins Estate once Bilbo left. No one had been looking forward to that, but no one had expected Bilbo to make this move! 

Fosco smiled. It was all legal too. Otho was only Bilbo's heir because he had no sons and because he hadn't declared another heir. Dodo was a fine young Hobbit and had the necessary business sense to take good care of the estate in a way that would do the Baggins family proud. His daughter Dora and her suitor, Leger would be able to inherit his smial and Leger would do well in taking over his job managing the estate's winery. If the lad was more interested in taking over his father's trade, well, Dodo could simply hire someone to take over the winery when he was gone. That would leave just Drogo of his three tweens, and Bilbo wanted to take him to Erebor.

"Dodo is a fine replacement for you here, it's true. I see no reason that what you propose would not work, and work well for those of us still living here in the Shire. It also takes a lot of work to establish a new Estate, and I imagine that it would be good for Drogo to learn how an Estate is supposed to run before he begins helping you to create a new one. I agree, Cousin Bilbo," Fosco said, and reached over to shake Bilbo's hand on the agreement.

Bilbo smiled and shook Fosco's hand. That had gone well. One more thing off of his list of things to accomplish. 

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Thorin looked over the group of merchants and stone masons gathered around the stone table in the council chamber of Thorin's Hall. The chamber was bare of ornament other than a chandelier of glowing crystals that Dwarrow used for light under ground. The stone table in front of them was covered in maps. For the most part those maps belonged to the merchants, brought to this meeting to show the conditions of the East-West road from the Grey Havens to the Iron Hills.

"Caravans the size that you are talking about will destroy these small bridges and going through the fords will be almost impossible," one merchant said, stabbing his finger at several points on a map. "Begging your majesty's pardon, but do we really need to bring the Hobbits to Erebor? Taking smaller caravans, especially the first year would be far easier."

Thorin smirked as most of the assembled dwarrow shuffled in place, not wanting to disagree with their king, but mostly agreeing with the only dwarf bold enough to ask the question. "It is simple enough, Halbrid." he told the merchant. "Their Green Lady, our Mahal's own wife, is the one sending them to Erebor. I, for one, have no wish to earn her wrath, not when she sends her children to cleanse the land of the poison that Smaug has soaked into Erebor and her surrounding lands. There is little food to be had, either in the lands of Men or Elf, and I do not believe it a good idea to feed our 'dams and dwarflings food grown in such poison. The Hobbits are not only Healers of the land, they are also the best farmers in Arda. Once they have their farms at Erebor's feet they will be able to Heal the land and feed our people healthy, wholesome foods that will, hopefully, not only allow our dwarflings grow strong, but allow our 'dams to have more of them."

That set the assembled dwarrow aback. It was true that what few dwarflings had been born in Thorin's Halls were nothing compared to the number that had been born in the year before Smaug came, but no one had realized Thorin's ambitions had run in such a direction. "It's well known that the Green Lady had blessed her children with astounding fertility," one of the stone masons ventured. "Do you think that she will grant us a little of the same, my liege?"

Thorin looked over the now hopeful looking group as they began to realize just what a blessing Hobbits could be. "I know that for the first time more Hobbit lasses than lads have been born, far more than ever before, and that all Hobbit lasses are expected to wed, even those who are more interested in their craft." Thorin stroked his hand down his betrothal braid. "Those who do not wed are considered strange among them, and I have been told that many will be willing to consider Dwarrow husbands."

"We can reinforce the stone bridges quickly enough," another of the stone masons said. "Repairing the old road will be far easier than building a new one."

"You are planning on using ore wagons, Your Majesty?" another merchant asked, pulling his map out of the pile. "They're hard on the mountain trails, but they would make reasonable time on the road." Thorin hid his smile as the Dwarrow began to make plans without his input for repairing the road. That had been far easier than he'd thought it would be.

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Holly hurried into the shop Mistress Cotton, the seamstress, owned. There were quite a few Hobbitesses gathered inside, gossiping, but she wasn't there for the gossip. Mind, she'd listen and gather all she could to tell her family, but she was there for something else. "Mistress Cotton," she called quietly. 

The matron smiled at her and leaned over the counter from where she'd been listening. "What can I do for you, Holly?"

"I'm looking to see if you have cabbage for sale," Holly asked politely. Cabbage was the term for left over scraps from different projects that were still usable. They were perfect for making quilts and Holly had run out.

"I've got two full boxes, and if you're making quilts to take on the Long Journey, I'll give you a bit of a discount," Mistress Cotton told her. "4 coppers per box, and there's about 10 lbs in each box."

Holly's eyes widened. That was more than enough scraps to make 3 quilts per box! Well, at least for the smaller quilts, Ivy could make a larger one with a single box, plus a smaller one. "I'll take both, and thank you. They say it's going to be like living through the Fell Winter to go with the caravans this Spring, and I want to make certain to have enough quilts."

"You'll need more than just quilts," Primula Brandybuck said as she laid a set of clothing down on the counter. "Come around, everyone! Those of you going on the Long Journey need to hear this!" As she separated out the clothes, the other Hobbitesses in the shop crowded in around her. Holly was quite stuck against the counter, but she didn't mind. It meant that she got a front row seat to whatever was happening now.

"This is the type of outfit a Took lass would wear on the roads when Gandalf, disturber of the peace, takes one off on an adventure," Primula said, as she held up a corset and passed it around. "This binds down your breasts so that you'll look like a lad. There's dangers enough out on the road that all the males are talking about, but none of them even think about how some Big Folk won't take no for an answer to a question they don't bother asking!"

The other Hobbitesses drew back in horror, and Primula nodded. "As there are so many of us lasses going, it pays to be prepared. Dress like a lad, carry your weapons openly, and then the bandits and the like aren't going to be looking to do that sort of thing to you. The Bounders are busy making bows and quivers full of arrows to arm the caravans; get some and learn to use them. Carry a knife, more than one conker, make a sling; all of these will protect you when the Dwarrow cannot. Most bandits will not strike at a heavily armed caravan, but there are Orcs out there who are stupid enough to try it. Please, make preparations to keep yourselves safe! Even if it is not evil Men that are after you, there are plenty of wolves, trolls, wargs, and other such beasts who will try to eat you and trying to run through the underbrush in a skirt is asking for disaster!"

"Those animals will stay away from the caravans, though. So it's while we're out foraging and hunting away from the caravans that we'll need to be on guard the most," Holly said thoughtfully. She looked closely at the corset. She then nodded, passed the corset on to the next Hobbitess and turned to Mistress Cotton. "I'll take enough supplies for six such corsets, please as well as both boxes of cabbage."

Mistress Cotton nodded and gathered the fabric, the boxes of scraps, the metal grommets and stays, the busks and the ribbon. "I'll sell you the lot for 2 silver," she told Holly. Holly gulped at the price but handed it over. She knew perfectly well that the fabric alone should have cost 3 silver, so the discount that Mistress Cotton was giving her was rather steep. She wasn't going to argue, not when her mother and her sisters would need the corsets for their safety. She knew her mother couldn't afford that price, but she still had 12 silver left of her savings. Holly took her purchases and eased out the door. She knew that the rest of the Hobbitesses in the shop would be buying up the supplies for the corsets, so she'd had better get over to the tailor's before they did.

At the tailor's Holly purchased enough of the heavier weight fabric the tailor reserved for the Bounders to make 6 sets of shirts, waist coats and breeches. That cost her another silver, but when the tailor heard that the fabric was for clothing to take on the Long Journey he threw in enough canvas for 6 bedrolls and the suspenders to complete the male clothing. It wasn't the same sort of discount that she'd gotten at Mistress Cotton's, but she was glad of it all the same. 

After hurrying home and dropping off the fabric, (and telling Ivy who was fixing lunch all about what she'd heard), Holly hurried back to the Market with both the rest of her savings and all of Ivy's, with her sister's blessing. She hoped to catch Master Maggot, and luckily she did. Her father had told her all about the monstrous ore wagons that the Thain was buying from the Dwarrow for the caravans, and just how much would fit inside one. Barrels could hold 12 bushels of grain, and a Hobbit needed at least 2 such barrels for a year's worth of bread alone, and 96 such barrels could fit into one wagon, more than enough to supply a Hobbit family and a family of Men as well. 

"Master Maggot!" she called as she waved at him. He was standing in the stall he used to sell bulk amounts of his produce. "I'm glad to see you. Do you have grain for sale? My family is going on the Long Journey this Spring, so we need quite a bit."

"How much would you be needing,?" Farmer Maggot asked, smiling at the lass. He knew the Smallburrows as good customers. They bought grain from him every year; never much at one time, but then they didn't have much in the way of a place to store it.

"7 barrels of barley and rye, 7 of oats, and 7 barrels of peas, and a barrel of wheat" she recited. The family's tenant fields, (where the rest of the family was that day) would produce enough grains and pulses to make up the rest.

"Well you are in luck," Farmer Maggot told her. "The Thain has already purchased all of my crops, and told me to give them to any who asked as long as they were traveling this Spring. I heard that Master Baggins was going to reimburse him from his share of that treasure in the mountain, and that he's going to be paying the dwarves for all sorts of metalwork - farm tools and kitchenware alike to give to his tenants on his new estate!" He grinned at the shocked look on Holly's face as he wrote up her order. "Aye! Now the wagons are going to be the Thain's property, so don't be looking to keep the oxen he'll have pulling them. Your best bet is to get an ox or pair of oxen to pull a smaller cart for your goods. I heard that the dwarves are going to be repairing the Great Road all the way to Erebor, so one of our farm wagons should be able to make the trip."

"Then I'll change my order, if you don't mind," Holly said, finally getting over the shock. "14 barrels of wheat, 7 each of barley, rye, and oats, and 7 each of beans and peas." They would still have to be careful about how much they ate, but this way she and Ivy would be able to use some of the grains as seed for the first sowing on their new farms.

"Not at all," Farmer Maggot chucked. "I'm glad that you were one of the first to ask. I'm throwing in a barrel each of buckwheat and sunflower seed as well. You'll need it for cleansing the land for your new farm. The Thain's generosity is going to make a great deal of difference to families like yours. Good luck on the Journey, and may the Green Lady hold you in her hand."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved Galadriel's prophecy for Legolas from the Ring War to Legolas' infancy as a reason for Thranduil to keep Legolas so close to home. 
> 
> If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore/Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more 
> 
> Galadriel - The Two Towers

September

One week before Bilbo's birthday 250 dwarvish ore wagons arrived in Hobbiton, led by Thorin and Gloin. Each wagon was led by three teams of four oxen. They made an impressive sight sitting beside the road near the Party Tree in Hobbiton. Dwarrow handed off teams of oxen to Hobbits, who in turn led them away to pasture, often staring in awe at the enormous beasts, nearly twice the size of their own oxen. With so many of them, the Hobbits were grateful that the creatures were so very gentle.

Master Baggins was quickly seen to be placing small signs on each wagon - ones that listed the Hobbits assigned to the wagon in question. Not all families could fill up their half of a wagon on their own, (for each wagon was to be loaded halfway with the food and goods of the Hobbits assigned to the wagon and the other half was to be loaded with food and medicines for the Men and Dwarrow at Erebor), and of those that could, they rarely could fill the whole wagon. Young people who were traveling without their families, striking out on their own, were assigned to fill out the remainder of the space in the wagons. 

There was a great deal of excitement as everyone gathered around 'their' wagons, getting to know who they would be partnered with for the majority of the upcoming year. It didn't take long for the occasion to become a party. Bilbo was pleased to see that everyone was getting along, and quite a few Hobbits were welcoming the Dwarrow. 

Fortunately none of them were following in Thorin's footsteps and proposing on the spot, although all of the Dwarrow were staring at the number of Hobbit lasses gathered around. Bilbo shook his head over Thorin's proposal again before putting it out of his mind as he spotted Thorin and Gloin. "Welcome to Hobbiton, Master Gloin!" he said, shaking the dwarf's hand after getting as soft head touch from Thorin. He was grateful that Thorin was not prone to the great head smacks that he'd seen other dwarrow greet each other with.

"Thank you, Master Baggins!" Gloin boomed. "This is my son, Gimli. He will be driving your wagon this Spring," he said, gesturing to the dwarf lad beside him.

"Gimli, son of Gloin, at your service," the young dwarf said with a bow. Gimli was a young copy of his father, something that Bilbo already knew, with the strong beginnings of what would one day to be a grand beard. 

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's," Bilbo returned. He could not help but remember a certain dwarf lord who had scandalized half of Middle Earth, and his One, who had scandalized the other half. It was a good thing that they would have more time together this time around. Perhaps with Kili and Tauriel as an example, the two of them would have a better time of it. Maybe if he can make sure Legolas doesn't insult Gloin's family this time around... no, no it would be far better to break the news to Gloin far in advance.

Later as he sat between Thorin and Gloin, enjoying the music, laughter and ale of the party he attempted to broach the subject. "Gloin, as you know I was given a vision much like Thorin, only from our Green Lady rather than her Lord. They have a task for me, so I was given knowledge of what would happen if I passed this task on to another. To say the least, it was not pleasant. There are things that you need to know now, for it will affect you personally and I believe that if you are not warned, well, let's just say that it didn't go well last time and it caused your family a great deal of grief. I would spare you that if I can," Bilbo told the dwarf.

Gloin hadn't known the Hobbit for long, a few hours gathered together with the rest of those making up the Company, and even less time here in the Shire, but this was Thorin's One, and as such he could not be anything less than honorable. The Hobbit no doubt did get the vision that he said he had, and if it was the same kind as Thorin and the lads had, well then the poor mite had seen it as though he lived through it. No doubt he was better off if the Hobbit did warn him. "I will listen, and take your words to heart, for I can tell you mean what you say, and I would spare my family any grief I can," he said.

Bilbo sighed in relief before bracing himself. "I had best give you some information about my vision first, just so you know the background. I passed my task onto a kinsman of mine, one I loved as though he were my own son. He has not been born yet, indeed he will not be born for another 30 years, but he was brave enough to take up this task even when Elves, Dwarrow and Men quailed before it. Representatives of all the free peoples gathered in Rivendell, and eight were chosen to accompany my kinsman. Three Hobbits, two Men, a Wizard, a Dwarf and an Elf. Your son was the dwarf chosen."

Gloin beamed at the knowledge that his son had been/would be/hopefully would not be/ chosen for this task. "He was old enough then?" he asked, already knowing but wanting to hear more about his precious son.

Bilbo grinned. "He was indeed, and a mighty fighter with his axe. No one could best him with it, even Dwalin agreed that he was the best in a very long time. Now, according to what Gimli told me later, after the task was done, he and the Elf could not stand each other at first. In fact, it took the entire length of the trip from Rivendell to Moria, and the death of one of those eight before they could let go of ancient prejudices. You see, although both were very honorable, both had been told all of their lives that the other was, well, there is a great deal said about Dwarrow by the Elves, and about the Elves by the Dwarrow that is not true. It was in their shared grief that friendship first began to grow."

"FRIENDSHIP! WITH AN ELF!" Gloin roared. He jumped up and grabbed his axe, only for Thorin to grab the axe in turn. 

"Bilbo said that he was warning you so that grief would not come to your family. Hear him out," the king commanded.

Bilbo nodded as the two settled down, waving away the stares from the various Hobbits around them. "Yes, that is how you reacted last time. The Elf's father was even worse. The two of you feuded until neither child could stand to be in your presence, for the hurt that you would not accept their love for one another, for he is Gimli's One and an Elf loves only once. In the end, both Gimli and the Elf sailed to the west together. No one could say if Gimli would be accepted on those shores, but they could no longer stay in Middle Earth and he would not be left behind when the sea called his Elf."

Both Thorin and Gloin looked shocked, and Gloin nearly shattered at the tale. "I drove my Gimli, my little star, all the way to the West?" he said, tears beginning to run down his face.

Bilbo patted his shoulder. "This is why I told you, so that you would know the consequences of what you may say. It hasn't happened yet, but with the caravans going, well the two of them will likely meet far sooner than they did last time. That is a good thing as they will have more time together, but I hope that their time will not be burdened by the hatred of their fathers this time around. Having at least one place that they may both be welcomed will ease the hurt I saw in my later years."

"You have not said the name of this Elf, even though you know that Tauriel is Kili's One and I have said that she will be welcome in Erebor," Thorin said, raising an eyebrow at his Hobbit.

"Yes, well," Bilbo fidgeted. "That's the other reason that there was so much in the way of difficulties. You see, the Elf in question is Legolas Greenleaf, the youngest son of the King of the Woodland realm, Thranduil." He knew perfectly well that he was dropping the proverbial Warg among the sheep, but he wasn't about to lie about it; that would not help at all.

"Thranduil," Gloin stated, dumbfounded.

"I thought Legolas was his eldest?" Thorin asked.

"No, Legolas has three elder brothers but they are all off being busy somewhere else. I honestly have no idea where they are now and for us it really doesn't matter. Legolas is the only one who still lives in his father's kingdom. At any rate, Legolas, once he's away from his father's court and is actually dealing with people of other races, finding out that they are in fact people with real feelings and such, and figuring out that he's been fed a load of orc shite his entire life; well he turns out to be quite the nice fellow," Bilbo explained. "I'm hoping that he'll get that sort of teaching sooner this time around."

Thorin groaned, but nodded. "You want me to see to it as I'm going to have to be dealing with him anyway," he complained.

"Well, as I said, he's far better than his father, once he's out from under Thranduil's thumb," Bilbo pointed out. "He just needs a little lesson on the fact that Dwarrow are people; they love and grieve like any other. If you invite him to stay after the battle, he'll get that lesson and that means that you will have a better time dealing with him later."

Thorin nodded, accepting the advice. Gloin on the other hand, was having a hard time of it. "Are you sure of this? Thranduil would rather all Dwarrow roast in Mount Doom and would be more than willing to shove us in if he was given the chance," he pointed out.

"Yes he would, and that would be because his father was killed by Dwarrow," Bilbo pointed out. "On the other hand, the only reason Legolas has that attitude is because his father refuses to let him leave the Mirkwood and his father's court. Apparently it was a hard fight for him to even get his father to let him lead the Mirkwood guard because of a prophecy said over his cradle. The first time he hears a gull cry, he will be drawn to the sea, never more to be content in Middle Earth. That being said, for Gimli's sake Legolas stayed quite a long time after he heard the gull's cry, fighting the call of the sea. I do believe that he would have stayed for the remainder of Gimli's life if it weren't for the feud."

Bilbo could tell this was a harsh blow to the proud Dwarrow, but the information was needed if Gimli and Legolas were to have any respite from the critics of the world. Lady knew that Thranduil wouldn't give them any at all. He took a long drink from his mug and looked around at the party, giving Gloin a moment to absorb what he'd said. As he looked around he spotted a Dwarrow standing stock still, staring at a particular Hobbit lass. "Oh dear," he said, and set his drink down.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, glad to move on to a new subject, even if there was trouble.

"It seems that someone has spotted his One, if I'm reading this right," Bilbo said, pointing at the Dwarrow in question. Both Gloin and Thorin looked carefully at the middle aged Dwarrow and agreed. "Well, in that case, it seems best if I give the poor dwarf some help, provided that he's interested in honorable marriage." With that he hopped up from his seat and hurried over to the overwhelmed dwarf. "Her name is Ivy, and she's one of the children of my tenants," he carefully explained.

The dwarf looked at Bilbo like he was saving him from an Orc invasion. "How do I tell if she's willing to accept suitors? If she has one already? How do Hobbits court? Oh Mahal!" he cried, wringing his hands.

Bilbo took pity on the dwarf. "There, there, it's not that hard. Ivy Smallburrow is her name. Her parents are Turpin and Daisy Smallburrow. She hasn't any suitors at the moment, but I know that she's willing to consider a dwarf as a husband once she's of age, which will be in three years. Now, what's your name and your craft, and are you willing to consider marriage? I can tell you she's not willing to consider a summer romance," Bilbo interrogated.

"I am Dwek, son of Dorin, Master Baggins, and I am a stone mason. I would not do her the dishonor of courting her without intending an honorable marriage! She's my One, you see. Is she too young to court? Should I ask her father's permission?" Dwek began tugging at his braids, fretting over possibly missing his chance by not doing things properly.

"There, there,"Bilbo repeated. "It's not so bad as all that. Hobbits court with flowers, food, and comforts. I'll help you get started with a simple posy that will tell her you are interested in her. You'll have all Winter to begin your courtship the Hobbit way and when we get to Erebor, then you can add in the Dwarrow ways as well." With that, he dragged the poor dwarf off to the nearest garden with the proper type of flowers.

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Holly and Ivy were giggling over the looks of the various dwarves were giving the mostly female crowd when a dwarf with coal black hair just turning to silver came up to them and handed Ivy a posy. He looked completely terrified as he bowed and said, "I am Dwek, son of Dorin, at your service. Would you be interested in a dance?"

Ivy agreed, and Dwek led her off to the dance floor, leaving Holly behind. She didn't mind. After all, it was the first time that any of her sisters had been asked to dance, and it was quite funny to see Ivy trying to teach Dwek how to dance as Hobbits did. That being said, she wouldn't mind if someone had asked her as well. Holly was so focused on the dance floor and hoping that she'd get a chance to dance herself that she almost didn't see Master Baggins come up beside her. "It's more than just a dance for him," Bilbo said.

"Oh, Master Baggins?" Holly asked, focusing her attention on the other Hobbit.

"Yes, you see, Dwarrow have Ones - that is their equivalent to a Soul Match. Ivy is his, and he's trying to begin a proper courtship with her. Normally I would have told Turpin, but he's deep in his cups and I doubt he would remember it in the morning," Bilbo explained. "Besides, this is even more important to you as you are Ivy's twin. The good news is that Dwek will always be able to tell the two of you apart, no matter how you dress, so there won't be any disturbing incidents like with the Barrow twins."

Holly nodded in relief. The Barrow twins were a lesson given to every young lad or lass that happened to become involved with, or were identical twins. It had become a cautionary tale of mistaken identity, wrong beds, and worse - public kisses that were given to the wrong twin. That was nothing that Holly wanted to get involved with. Of course, she always suspected that the twins in question were more responsible than the suitors, but that was not her problem now, not if Master Bilbo was to be believed. "Thank you for that, Master Baggins. It has been a concern for us," she said, as propriety demanded. She knew that Master Baggins knew the truth of that tale just as she did.

"Well, the other good news is that if your sister has a Soul Match in a dwarf, then you have one as well. The two of you are planning farms next to each other I believe?" Master Baggins asked.

"Yes, Master Baggins," Holly agreed. "We thought that if we started building smials as soon as we arrived, then they would be finished by the time we came of age. The fields and gardens would have a good beginning, and we might even have a good trade begun." She didn't bother to tell him that they were hoping to get Dwarf husbands, because that it seemed was off to a good start, and it really wasn't her place to be giving Master Baggins confidences like that, not to someone so far above her in both age and station. It also went unsaid that having an especially good patch of earth was required for faunts, and so that would be something it was better to prepare far in advance as well.

Bilbo nodded. "Well, then I believe that I shall pass on the knowledge that my father's final courting gift to my mother was Bag End to the Dwarrow. Dwarrow court with gifts both grand and humble, and I cannot think of a grander final gift than a new home to start married life and a new family in. I know that Dwek at least is going to ask me, so is there any sort of gift that Ivy is especially fond of, or is in need of? Three courting gifts are the custom of Dwarrow, each given by the suitor, so it would be better if Dwek has time to prepare them."

"Well, we've been getting ready for the journey, Master Baggins," Holly carefully explained. "As you know, we've not much to be bringing with us. Ivy and I are just beginning to gather things to strike out on our own, so there's much that could be gifted. I do know that Ivy loves roses of all sorts, and would chose to have all of her things covered in them if she could." The two Hobbits had a nice chat about Holly's sister and what was likely to be well received that soon included Daisy and several other matrons.


	7. Chapter 7

March

Thorin was hard at work in a forge in the Grey Havens when Gandalf found him. He'd been expecting the grey wizard of course, but he really didn't want to have to relive Tharkun trying to goad him into doing something he had been planning on doing since last Autumn. So when Gandalf opened his mouth to greet him, Thorin interrupted. "You are about to try and get me to take a small group of Dwarrow and one Hobbit to Erebor in order to get the Arkenstone so that I may gather up the Dwarrow armies and kill the dragon, Smaug."

Gandalf closed his mouth, leaned forward and looked closely at the Dwarf in front of him. "I take it, it did not go well for you the last time you did this?" he asked plainly. 

"No, it did not," Thorin said shortly. He wondered briefly if the wizard could see that he had died before dismissing it as irrelevant to the discussion. "And a great deal of what went wrong can be laid at your feet, Meddler!" 

Gandalf took a step back in shock, and Thorin continued. "You hold onto secrets that should not be kept, such as not telling a certain Hobbit that thirteen Dwarrow would be calling upon him and expecting that he would be joining them on a quest to steal from a dragon. You had told me that you already had a burglar for the quest! We thought him not an honorable Hobbit who was going back on his word when he refused to join us, who had then changed his mind once more the next morning. We didn't find out that he had told you that he would not join our quest when you asked him until we were nearly to Erebor. Indeed, when we came to Laketown was when we found out that you had not asked him to join until the very day we had arrived in Hobbiton!

"Then you kept your reasons for wanting Smaug dead from us, which made me suspicious of you and the Hobbit which caused it's own problems. You flitted off on your own many times without telling us what you were about, and we felt that you could not be trusted," Thorin said. "We went on without you when you said to wait because of that, and there were many perils that could have been avoided if you'd simply been honest with us. Now, by my maker and by yours, I will have your honesty or we will not have you at all."

"You presume much, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf began, but Thorin interrupted him once more.

"I do because I am commanded by Mahal to get it right this time!" Thorin said harshly. "I know that there are wizardly things that I do not need to know, but by Mahal's great beard, Tharkun! You must be honest with us about that which we need to know! If you leave us, tell us where you are going, if not why and when you expect to be back or even if you expect to return. How are we to know if you are in trouble otherwise? Do not try to trick us into going to see the Elves! I know that we need to see them. I don't need to be treated like a child who needs to be tricked into taking his medicine! No insults, no talking down to us simply because we are Dwarrow, be honest when you must part from us, and tell us why you want us to do something, this is what we need from you as a member of our Company. To do less than that is to court disaster!"

Gandalf looked around the forge, if only to escape the look on Thorin's face, only to find Fili and Kili looking sternly at the Wizard as well. "It was not well done," Fili said simply. Kili nodded in agreement, but said nothing. There was nothing more to say. 

Gandalf turned back to Thorin. "You have brought much to my attention," he said uncomfortably.

Thorin sighed. "I am told that you, of all your kind, are the only one to not turn from the task the Valar have set before you. I know what it is like to have to take on responsibilities that should be shouldered by another on top of your own. We would help if only you would let us. Please Tharkun, tell us - do not try and work around those who wish to help."

"The ONLY one?" Gandalf asked in horror.

Thorin nodded grimly. "I do not know when, but Radagast the Brown turns only to help the creatures of the earth, and the White, well I am told that he sides with the Enemy in the years to come. The rest, I know not of, only that they too have turned from their tasks."

Gandalf sat down in shock. For once the title of Grey Man suited his complexion as much as it did his clothes. "Saruman goes to the Enemy?" he asked, his voice grieved.

Thorin nodded. "The tales Bilbo Baggins has told me of the war to come are quite terrible, and that was one of the worst - that one of the wizards who are pledged to stand against the darkness had joined it."

"Bilbo?" Gandalf asked.

"Yes, he has also been returned, although he has a task from the Green Lady that required him to learn of events much farther into the future than I saw myself." Thorin turned back to the forge. "I must complete this order, Tharkun, and I will join you for dinner at the Block and Tackle. It will give you time to think on what I have told you."

"Yes, I think that would be best," Gandalf said faintly, before getting to his feet. The dwarrow watched as he slowly walked out of the forge, for once moving as though he were as old as he looked.

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'Preparations, preparations,' Bilbo thought to himself as he hurried through Bag End. Dodo and Drogo were scurrying along as well. All of Bilbo's personal items were being packed up and moved to the great wagon that stood in front of Bag End. Gimli was doing his best to help pack the wagon as each item was brought out. Bilbo had purchased two such wagons from Thorin's Halls, along with the oxen to pull them. The first was filled to the brim with food and medicines. The second was the one being packed now. Certain little luxuries were carefully packed, such as his armchair and books, and many of his personal mementos as well, such as his parent's portraits. However, much of Bag End's furniture and even most of Bilbo's own goods, were staying with Dodo for him and his bride to be to use as the new Baggins' of Bag End. 

There were presents to make and purchase as farewell gifts to those he was not likely to see again, as well as seeds to sprout for a garden that he would not be planting. Bilbo's prize winning tomatoes began with his seeds, carefully kept from his best plants, and he had tutored Dodo on just how he got them so big and tasty. It was the least he could do to get this year's plants off to a good start for the boy, even as he took seeds and starts from every plant in his garden. If they could not be grown in Erebor's climate, well he knew that a large greenhouse was not beyond Thorin's abilities. He did hope that telling Dis about that did not count as cheating on the matter of courting gifts. 

Drogo and Primula had also carefully saved seeds from their parent's gardens to take with them. They had not yet married, still being tweens, but as Bilbo's heirs, they were going in the very first caravan. Indeed, Drogo had all but moved in with Bilbo, (as had Dodo but for completely different reasons), and many of Primula's older siblings were going as well. It had taken a great deal of bargaining, semi adoptions and promises of fostering to get the Hobbits that Bilbo wanted to go in the first few caravans as most of them were still young but he'd finally managed it. Frodo and his friends would now be born in the new Hobbit settlement at Erebor's feet.

Bilbo carefully placed the seed container in Gimli's hands. "See to it that this is especially looked after, Gimli. This is my true inheritance from my parents - the seeds from the garden they worked all of their married life together." Gimli took the small chest carefully in his hands and carried it away from the garden to the wagon. He'd learned all about how Hobbits see their treasured gardens over the last Autumn and Winter. 

"Now, to see to it that certain other plants are prepared," Bilbo muttered to himself and marched over to the carefully separated medicinal garden. Many of the plants were still dormant or just beginning to put forth new leaves. Bilbo entered the garden and walked over to a certain row of woody shrubs. "Belladonna," he sighed; his mother's namesake. The local apothecary had permission from him to make medicine from this particular row of plants, and thus they were looking rather raggedy at the moment. That would pass in time, but there was still enough for his needs. "Wish I'd thought of this the first time around," Bilbo muttered to himself as he began to harvest the deadly plant.

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Thorin entered the Block and Tackle with Fili and Kili right behind him. The work at the forge would usually continue for many weeks as he made items for the great Elven sailing ships that took the Elves to the West. That was not to be for this year though. They had far more pressing concerns, and the wizard sitting at a table near the tavern's fireplace was the problem of the moment.

The three Dwarrow split up as they entered, Kili going to order their supper and Thorin and Fili going to join Tharkun at the fire. "Tharkun," Thorin greeted him as the Dwarrow sat down.

"Thorin," Gandalf said with a sigh. "It is terrible news that you have shared with me, but looking back I am sad to say that I believe you. Saruman has not responded to much these last few decades, and I had believed that his censuring of myself and Radagast was due to his personal belief that a wizard should be more dignified. Alas, with your words his attitude seems to have a much worse cause."

Thorin looked at the wizard seriously. "I am truly sorrowful to have to be the one to tell you the tale, Gandalf, but there is hope. Mahal has sent you this," and he handed over a bag to the wizard. "These you are to use to send Saruman to the West with a group of Elves taking the Straight Road as they call it."

Gandalf looked inside the bag to find a set of cuffs and a collar, all chained together. The set was glowing slightly which told Gandalf that it had indeed come from Mahal. "Mahal recalls his student, Gandalf. It is not to be his death that you must deliver him to, but a stern talking to in Valinor. Surely it is a far better thing to send him on his way to Mahal than to be forced to kill him," Thorin said, trying to be sympathetic as Gandalf looked both resigned and sorrowful. 

Gandalf nodded as Kili reached the group carrying a handful of ales, and a barmaid following him with a tray covered in bowls of stew with bread and butter. The meals were passed out and silence reigned as the four devoured the food. "You are correct that sending Saruman to face Mahal is a better end than having to kill him, Thorin," Gandalf said, as he sat back with his ale after finishing up with the meal. "And I will try to be better about telling you things that you feel you should know. To that purpose, Smaug must die so that Erebor can stand as the Guardian of the North as it did in times past. As you know from Bilbo, the Enemy is beginning to stir. I have heard many reports of dark things stirring where they have not for centuries. I fear what would happen if the Enemy retains Smaug to his service. More than that, the Free Peoples can field great armies should such be needed, but without arms and armor they are defenseless. Erebor in the hands of Dwarrow can do much to bolster those armies, and bolster both the Dwarrow Clans and the cities of Men and Elves."

"Which in turn will lead to more people to be in those same armies when the time comes," Fili pointed out.

Gandalf nodded. "A prosperous people can field larger armies than those who are not," he said simply. "And a destitute people are vulnerable to the darkness as few others are."

Thorin nodded as well. "See, that wasn't so bad now, was it? I agree that Smaug must die for my people to prosper once more, and so do the Valar. Mahal has sent us to do it right this time, and the Green Lady sends her people to Erebor as well. With the Hobbits beginning a settlement at Erebor's feet there will be food for all and Erebor will certainly be full of craftsmen to outfit those armies you speak of. Dale and the Woodland realm will also prosper if we can free them from the threat of the dragon."

"It will also allow us to have what we need to train those armies, both of Men and Dwarrow," Fili pointed out. "Bard's people are not soldiers, but their hunters will make good archers with a little training."

Thorin nodded, glad that Fili was thinking of his One's people. "We will need to train them along with our own," he said. "But that is for later, for now we must concentrate on getting to Erebor."

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Dwek was invaluable in helping the Smallburrow family to prepare for the Long Journey. As the lasses sewed frantically over the Winter, he and Turpin went to work on building three small ox carts for the family. Although not a carter by trade, Dwek had turned his hands to more than a few odd jobs over the decades and he had friends who were willing to lend a hand or two to the endeavor. Indeed, building small carts to be pulled by the Hobbits' smaller oxen or goats became a good way for the Dwarrow to earn their own supplies for the Long Journey as the farm carts that the Hobbits had were not up to crossing the Misty Mountains even after the Dwarrow's planned reconstruction of the lower mountain passes.

Holly's ox cart was actually pulled by two cows rather than two oxen. Oxen were going up in price while cows had not, so she had chosen two good milking cows to take the place of the oxen she would have preferred to buy. When the time came to breed her cows with any luck she'd end up with two bull calves for turning into oxen. If not, she'd have heifers to trade for them, and/or she could probably trade someone cheese for plowing to be done on her new farm with someone who already had oxen. 

Inside her ox cart she placed her few finished goods. A small chest held her two dresses, under things and shawl. Tucked in at the very bottom of the chest was what remained of her savings. Another chest held the things that she'd purchased for her kitchen, and a small keg held the packets of wild teas that she'd made last Autumn. She had always been too poor for the habit of smoking, but she knew that Ivy had purchased Dwek a small cask of pipeweed for the journey. 

Holly's garden tools were lashed to the side of the cart, and her chest of garden seeds was tightly packed away. The rest of the cart was filled with her bedding, crates to hold her chickens, the grain for the birds and her starts for her new gardens. The starts were contained in little clay pots packed into a crate with no top. These pots would need to be watered fairly often, but the small plants inside them would be able to make the journey this way. 

It wasn't much to start a farm with, but Holly knew that she would be able to get a position in Erebor; most likely in the Royal Kitchens or as part of one of the cleaning crews. That position would earn her enough coin to buy the rest of what she would need for her smial and farm. She'd heard that some Dwarrow smiths were actually able to create cook stoves much like the one at Bag End, and of all the things she could buy for her new home, that was the one she wanted most. 

The stove at Bag End had been a nine month wonder when Master Bungo Baggins had purchased it from a Dwarrow smith in Bree when he had been building Bag End. Indeed, the smial's entire kitchen had been built around that one master piece. It could bake eight loaves of bread at once, or six pies. And the stove top could heat six different pots at once, at different temperatures for each pot. Holly knew that the stove was the real reason that Mistress Sackville-Baggins had been so determined to get Bag End from Master Bilbo, no matter that she often tried to steal Mistress Belladona's silver spoons. Holly and Ivy had often snatched those same spoons back for Master Bilbo when they were younger.

Holly snickered to herself as she continued to work on a quilt she had almost finished for the Long Journey. The Sackville-Baggins' had been horrified to learn of Master Bilbo's leaving Bag End and the Baggins Clan to Master Dodo. They had even gone to the Thain to try and over turn Master Bilbo's choice. It hadn't worked of course, and the rest of Hobbiton had been overjoyed. There had been a great deal of whispering and pointed comments at the various teas held since Master Bilbo had made his choice known, with everything getting even more obvious once the Thain had handed down his decision. But the Sackville-Baggins' were soon to be the problem of those staying behind in Hobbiton. Those going on the Long Journey were scheduled to leave on the first of April, less than a month away.


	8. Chapter 8

March 30

Thorin sat next to Thain Took and wondered at the Hobbits partying around him. His Bilbo was giving out gifts left and right, and center much to his astonishment. He noticed that all of the Hobbits leaving with the caravan the next morning were doing so as well, but also those who were not. In fact, he didn't think he'd seen a single Hobbit who hadn't given away a gift at some point in the evening.

"It's no secret, Thorin," Isengrim informed him after accepting a particularly nice pipe from Bilbo and seeing Thorin's confusion. "We Hobbits give gifts rather than receive them. One of our distant ancestors killed a cousin of his over a pretty trinket, claiming it to be his birthday present. We were so horrified over it that no Hobbit has been given a birthday present on their birthday since. Instead we give gifts on our birthdays and at every opportunity, and tonight is for farewell gifts as it is very unlikely that any Hobbit traveling East will ever return. Indeed, I'm sending my own heir, my brother and his family to be the Thain for the new settlement. I've got to pick a new one now, but I've siblings aplenty to choose from. That doesn't mean that we won't miss each other though, and I've given many gifts to say farewell as have they."

Thorin nodded, although this was new information to him. "There are always the ravens of Erebor. They carry messages and can speak Westron when they chose. I know that Bilbo at least will make use of them, so you will have news in the coming years."

"That is comforting news!" Isengrim exclaimed happily, and handed Thorin a gift. 

April 1

Everyone in Hobbiton was gathered around the Party Tree, some of them nursing hangovers from the night before, and watching with anticipation as Bilbo Baggins formally gave Dodo Baggins the keys to Bag End, thus formally handing over the Baggins Clan to his first heir. Only a small percentage of Hobbiton's population was going to Erebor this Spring, but this was the beginning of the Long Journey. When it was completed there would be two realms of Hobbits in Middle Earth. It was a momentous occasion and no one wanted to miss it.

Bilbo heaved a silent sigh of relief as Dodo took the keys and turned to mount his pony. "Right then, off we go." He told Thorin as he mounted his pony. Fili and Kili had brought back enough ponies from their trip to Rohan to outfit the entire Company and Gandalf besides; even if Fili did give Gandalf a stern talking to about taking care of the horse he was entrusting to the wizard. Bilbo approved of their reasons. The horses and ponies of Rohan would come when called, even if they'd bolted beforehand, something Bilbo was grateful to Fili for thinking of. It was far better to plan for such things when they knew that it had happened before.

So Bilbo did not give Thorin a dirty look when the king gave him a handkerchief, no matter who might say otherwise, even if he already had three of them in his pocket. After all, he had forgotten one last time, and it was only a nice thing that Thorin was doing, making sure that he had one this time around. It was also nice to ride beside Thorin instead of being shuffled to the back of the Company. "Two days until we hit Bree," he told Thorin, noticing that Dwalin was riding at the head of the Company with Gandalf. They would not be delayed by Thorin's lack of direction above ground it seemed.

"Yes, and then several weeks until we arrive at the Trollshaws," Thorin said, grimacing at the reminder.

"Is that to be our first real difficulty then?" Balin asked, riding behind the two and next to Kili. Fili was riding behind his brother next to Dori. Thorin and the boys hadn't told the Company exactly what they were going to encounter as there was no guarantee that every encounter would be the same as they had been shown, but they had informed everyone that trolls, orcs, goblins, orc armies, and diplomacy with the various realms that they would be passing through were most likely.

"Aside from the week of rain," Kili complained. "I'm not looking forward to that."

Thorin nodded. "There are, or rather should be, three trolls camped close to the road. The trolls themselves are a danger to the caravans that must be dealt with before any of our people can be hurt or killed, but they also have three swords in their hoard that I want to retrieve. Gandalf will take one, I another, and there will be one for Bilbo there as well. Once we have Bilbo's sword, Sting, I want him trained as well as Dwalin can train him with it. I will not have him unarmed and little trained when the orc armies attack Erebor."

Bilbo nodded grimly. "I do wish that I had devoted more time to training with Sting the last time. While I ended up rather overlooked, I also got hit in the head and spent most of the battle unconscious. I would much rather do better this time around." 'Especially,' he thought to himself, 'as I do have an appointment in Mordor. It would be much better if I could defend myself on that trip.' 

Bilbo patted his bow, hung on his pony's saddle and then checked his conkers and sling. He'd spent a great deal of time over the Winter practicing and renewing what skills he had with the weapons. He would not be defenseless again. He doubted that Azog would be expecting a conker to the throat or the temple, and that could kill a full grown Man much less an Orc, even one as nasty as Azog.

Balin nodded. "Dwalin will do all he can, and if you are determined then I am certain that you will do well in the battle to come," he said encouragingly. "As for a week of rain, well miserable as that will be, it's easier to endure than many other things. Now tell me how you'll greet Lord Elrond, Kili."

"Mae g'ovannen, Lord Elrond. Im Kili, ion Dis, iell Thrain, ion Thror, King Under the Mountain," Kili carefully said, trying to watch his pronunciation. 

Balin sighed. "Close, but that is how you would greet Fili or Dain, not a lord you do not know. The formal Sandarin greeting to a lord or king is Mae l'ovannen. You can keep Thoror's title in Westron. Lord Elrond is familiar with our ways and titles." He continued instructing Kili on what was appropriate to say to the Elven Lord, with Bilbo chiming in as he was very familiar with Elrond and wanted to make certain that Kili made a good impression.

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Holly stood next to her cart, patting one of her woolly cows on the head. She and the other Hobbits who were taking their own cattle with them had prioritized taking the woolly cows as they were far tougher than their appearance would suggest. Each of the woolly cow bulls stood no more than four feet in height, and the females no more than three and a half feet in height, making them much easier to for the small Hobbits to deal with, although they also weighed over a thousand pounds. 

The woollies were also covered in long, slightly wavy hair that had both a long over coat and a shorter, dense under coat that could be spun into yarn for rugs, and if one was careful, clothing. These coats allowed them to survive rain, sleet, and even harsh snow storms with little to no shelter, conditions that were likely to be found in Erebor as well as the wetter parts of the Shire. They could also survive on nearly anything, another good trait as Erebor wasn't likely to have good grazing for years.

It would take time for the line of wagons to really start moving, and Holly was near the back of the line. Honestly, that was fine with her. She had no need to put herself forward among the noble folk. "That thing won't make it there, and neither will those tiny cattle you have," came from behind her. Holly stiffened, and turned around. There was a dwarf standing behind her. He wore sturdy leathers, and carried an axe upon his back. His hair was dark brown and he had hazel eyes. His braids were neatly constructed and what few Holly recognized showed that he was a dwarf of good standing. Too bad it was all ruined by the disgruntled look on his face. 

"My cart is dwarf built, Master Dwarf. I would not be taking anything less over the mountains. Your people know them far better than I. As for my cows, they are far sturdier than they look. Simply because they are small does not mean that they cannot do what I require of them, and they require far less feed, and lesser quality feed to do their jobs. They will not need to be coddled on this journey," Holly informed him politely. She made no mention of the fact that as her cart was so lightly weighed down, (she didn't own much and what food she had in her cart was minimal so her cows weren't even pulling close to their own weight), her cows were in no danger of losing their unborn calves either.

The dwarf started as he saw the dwarven braids that Holly, (and the other Hobbit lasses in the caravan), was wearing in her hair. They had all been taught to make them by Mistress Dori. One to show that she was a lass, and the other to say that she was open to being courted. If anything the braids made him scowl even harder. "You should be waiting here, rather than take the caravan this year," he grumbled. "A lass on the road alone is not a good thing. There are evil Men and vile Orcs out there that would love to get their hands on a soft little thing like you."

Holly snorted. "That's why I'm dressed as a lad, Master Dwarf," she replied, insinuating that the dwarf was rather dim. "We lasses are well aware of what dangers lie on the road. The Took lasses are all taught in case Gandalf comes to call. They in turn taught those of us going, as well as what precautions to take. Those precautions include taking weapons and knowing how to use them. Oh, and I'm hardly alone seeing as how there are nearly a thousand of us in this caravan, including my parents and sisters."

The dwarf huffed in frustration and stomped off. "What in the Green Lady's name was that all about?" Ivy wanted to know, having witnessed the confrontation from beside her own oxen.

"Oh who knows?" Holly declared in disgust. "Lady knows that they can't all be as nice as your Dwek, and that one must be a prime example of the hind end of a horse sort." A few moments later the wagons in front of them began to move and Holly dismissed the rude Dwarf from her mind. It was time to get her cows moving and her wagon on the road.

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Bree was exactly as Thorin remembered it; a large town of Men and Hobbits. Almost all of the buildings were built in the manner of Men, although the Hobbits had a nice group of their smials in the hills above the town. The Dancing Pony was a large inn with rooms that served to be comfortable for customers of either stature, and served good food and ale and plenty of both. "No drunkenness," Thorin ordered the group, giving Bofur a glare. "I'm off to speak with the Dwarrow smiths here in Bree before we move on in the morning. I want us gone by daybreak. We have a long way to go. Gloin, get us rooms and a meal."

With that he left the Company to settle themselves in the inn and headed into the market of Bree. There were two families of Dwarrow who managed the smithy here in Bree, and as they were all Longbeards they looked to Thorin as their king. Fortunately it wasn't raining yet and it was a swift walk to the smithy.

Reirbic Forgebow was carving a handle for a knife when Thorin approached. :Sire: he greeted Thorin in inglishmek. 

"Reirbic," Thorin greeted. :What news do you have for me?: he signed back, knowing that Reirbic was using the hand language because of the Men and Hobbits about.

"Thorin, I should have known you'd be here soon," Reirbic said. "The Dwarrow fixing the road to the Iron Hills came through about a month ago. You'll have a swift trip this year."

"Ah, but the Hobbits have kept the road through the Shire in good condition for years. Out in the wilds it will still be harsh," Thorin pointed out. :Any undue interest?:

"Nah, the road will be good to travel," Reirbic protested. "I'm looking forward to getting good Iron Hills ingots for my craft." :No, a little interest is expected, but they all believe that we're making a trade road.:

"I'll see what I can do," Thorin promised. "Dain's mines have had a good Winter I'm told. There should be plenty I can send you when I get there." :What of the Hobbits?:

"Oh good. Here," Reirbic headed over to the back of the smithy and returned with a pouch. "This should be enough." :The Hobbits have told everyone that the Green Lady is sending them East, no other explanation. Several of my regular customers went to Hobbiton to join the caravan.:

"I leave early in the morning. If you'd care to join me and my companions, we're staying at the Prancing Pony tonight," Thorin said, tucking the pouch inside his cloak - or at least that's what anyone watching him would have said. In truth, he passed it back to Reirbic. The Dwarf did enough for their clan gathering information here. He did not need to pay his king anything, especially once Thorin got the treasure hoard cleansed of dragonsickness. There would be plenty of gold for all of his people then, but until the deed was done his people needed all that they could earn. He would not take more than necessary from them. He would not force his people to choose between paying tithes and feeding their children.

:Mahal watch over you all, Sire: Reirbic signed, laughing off the invitation.

:And you and yours,: Thorin replied as he took his leave. He returned to the inn, finding Balin and Kili in the taproom hard at work on Kili's elf speech. Personally Thorin couldn't understand a word of it, but Kili was making good progress if the look on Balin's face was anything to go by. 

"Two rooms between the Company and one for Tharkun," Balin told Thorin as he sat down. "The rest are settling their things in the rooms, and supper is ready to be handed out as soon as everyone sits down to eat it."

"Good," Thorin said. "I know that Bilbo and Bombur are talented cooks, but anytime that I can eat something besides trail food I will not turn my nose up at it."

"Remember to make sure that Bilbo eats his fill tonight, Uncle," Kili said. "We practically starved him last time, even if he was too polite to say anything about it."

Balin started. "What?" he asked.

"Hobbits eat seven meals a day, Balin. They can reasonably cut down to four or eat much smaller meals at each meal time, but they do need to eat a great deal more than we Dwarrow," Thorin explained. "That is why the Thain was so insistent on sending so many wagons, and that they be the largest he could purchase, in the caravans. As for Bilbo, well we did not treat him well the last time and ignored his requests for more frequent meals thinking him a greedy fellow. We only ate two meals a day to make our rations last. It was not enough for him."

"More of Tharkun's meddling," Kili growled. "We did not find out how badly we were treating him until much later when we realized that he was not much more than skin and bones when we reached Laketown."

"Can we please avoid the barrels this time?" Fili pleaded as he sat down beside Kili. "I swear I'll never eat another apple again," he shuddered.

Thorin and Kili both laughed at the face he was making. "What? You do not appreciate our Master Burglar's second greatest feat?" Thorin asked. "Thirteen Dwarrow stolen from right under a certain Elf's nose."

Fili just grimaced and accepted the ale that Kili passed him. The other Dwarrow came from behind Fili and sat down at the large table running along side one of the taprooms walls. As they sat down, the Hobbitess barmaid came over with the first platter of their food. "Please, Mistress Hobbit," Thorin asked, as he took a tankard. "We have a Hobbit with us and wish for him to be fed properly while we are still able to do so. See to it that he gets as much as he will take."

"Not a problem, Master Dwarf," the lass said with a smile, as she hurried back to the bar to collect another tray.

"A good night of food, drink and a good long sleep in a real bed will be much appreciated," Bilbo said as he settled in next to Thorin. The rest of the Dwarrow agreed as they made merry around the table. They all knew that there would not be many such comforts on the journey that would last more than half a year, mostly through wilderness. It was far better to enjoy them while they lasted.


	9. Chapter 9

Sigrid, daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer, Shieldmaiden and Princess of Dale shot up from her sleep with a deep yell, swinging a hand that no longer had a sword in it. She looked down at herself and found herself in only a shift, with none of the mud or blood that she expected to see on her skin. In fact, she peaked down her shift only to find that not only did she not have mud and blood covering her, she also did not have any wounds nor were her breasts as big as she remembered.

"Sig?" Sigrid looked beside her only to see her little sister Tilda - her VERY LITTLE sister - rubbing her eyes and looking worriedly at her. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No," Sigrid said after a moment of thought. It had been far too detailed to be one of her battle dreams, and she had enough of them over the years to know them well. "Something has happened to me, Tilda, and I'm not exactly sure what it is." With that, she slipped out of their bed and reached for the dress hanging on a peg in the wall. She quickly got dressed while running through what she remembered.

She and Tauriel had been fighting a band of Orcs, ones that had been praying on the caravans on their way to Dale. Their guard patrol been overwhelmed by the size of the group, not expecting to find so many, and she had been caught by a sword through the chest just as she blocked two more. She'd died. She knew she'd died. 

Sigrid thought about that one fact. She had died - in the defense of her city, but still, she had died. It hadn't been a bad death, but she hadn't expected to wake up in Laketown far in the past. It had been nearly twenty and five years since she'd set foot in the town, even after it had been rebuilt she hadn't wanted to see it, much less actually stand in it once more. She'd lost too much to dragonfire to ever want to see the place again, even if she'd lost so much less than others that day. Her family had lived.

"Sigrid, my girl?" she heard from beyond the curtain that cut off her and Tilda's bed from her brother's. It was her Da.

"I'm fine, Da. Something's happened and I'm trying to figure it out. I'll get some breakfast started," she promised. It was early, but still late enough to begin their day rather than trying to go back to sleep.

"What do you mean?" Bard asked as she slipped out from behind the curtain, followed by Tilda, still trying to lace her shoes.

"Well, I seem to have become what the Elves call 'Twice-Born', Sigrid said. "Only, I'm not sure just why that would happen to me. The only one I've ever really heard about was a noble born warrior Elf. Drat, I can't remember his name just now, just that he was killed by a Balrog and came back from it. I was just killed by an Orc, and it wasn't anything so heroic as killing a Balrog. The Eru dammed things were targeting merchant caravans and Tauriel and I had run into them with our patrol," she rambled as she started breakfast for her family, the old skills coming easily to her hands once more.

"What?" Bain asked, as he joined them in their main room.

"Emhum," Sigrid hummed as she set the kettle on for tea. "At least I was fighting three Orcs rather than falling to a single Goblin or something even more stupid. It was a good way to die, and I'd lived a good life for all that it wasn't as long as some."

"How old were you?" Tilda asked.

"I was forty and one when I died," Sigrid said, matter of factly.

"You'd become a Shieldmaiden, like your mother?" Bard asked.

"Yes, I never married though," Sigrid said calmly. "There was never anyone who made me look beyond my weapons and my stitching." Sigrid hadn't bothered listening to anyone who told her she had to chose one or the other. If the Dwarrow women could have both a Craft and a Trade, well then, so could she; and if one was more 'lady like' in the eyes of her people, then they were the ones who were blind.

Bard looked carefully at his daughter, looked at her stance as well as her eyes. She'd changed; literally overnight. She hadn't stood like a warrior last night, and she did now, moving as gracefully as an Elf through the kitchen, like one of the ladies of the Elven guard that he'd seen. "Did the Elves train you?" he asked.

"Well, one did," Sigrid said with a laugh. "She'd become part of our family and she taught all of us, even gave you a few tips on your bow work, Da."

Bard nodded. "Well, there must have been something to cause this?" he asked.

"You believe her?" Bain asked huffily.

"Sigrid would not lie to us, Bain," Bard chastised his son. "Plus I can see the training she's gotten in the way she moves. She couldn't do that before now." Bain settled down with a frown, even as he took a bowl from his sister.

"How old am I now, Da?" Sigrid asked. 

"You are fifteen, and it is planting season," Bard said, accepting his own bowl.

Sigrid froze for a moment before shaking off whatever memory had overwhelmed her. "Well, that must be it. Although I have no idea what I can do about it, child that I am now. I couldn't do anything about it when it happened, and I have no more authority than I did then."

"What is it?" Bard asked carefully, watching Sigrid sit down with a bowl for herself and for Tilda.

Sigrid looked up, a sorrowful and apologetic look on her face. "The dragon," she said simply.

"When?" Bard asked, a sinking feeling in his belly.

"This Autumn, just before the snows begin to fall, but that is not the worst of it," Sigrid grimaced. "Two armies of Orcs are coming, and will arrive just after Smaug is killed. With Laketown destroyed, we found refuge in the ruins of Dale, but - well, Orcs do not bother to ask if you are trained as a warrior or not before trying to kill you," she said simply. "At least you killed Smaug before he killed all of us."

Bard buried his face in his hands. The Black Arrow he'd inherited from Girion, it was the only way it could have happened - will happen. He'd have to practice more than ever if he wanted to make that shot. "I have a guard shift this morning," he said, as he moved his hands back to the table and his breakfast. "Sigrid, you'll come with me. I want to see what you know and how good you are with a bow now. Bain, you'll need to look after Tilda. Tilda, do as your brother says and don't get into trouble the two of you. You've chores aplenty to do this morning. I want to see them done when we return."

"Yes Da," the three of them chorused. Bard sighed. This was not going to be easy, but it was easy enough to prove Sigrid's tale a dream or not. He had no doubt that it was no dream, not with the way she moved. He didn't want that sort of life for his girl, no matter that it had been her mother's path before they wed, but he wasn't foolish enough to forbid it. His Mari would come back from the dead just to beat him over the head with the sword she'd left behind if he'd even thought of it.

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The guards looked on with Bard as one of the guardsmen put Sigrid through her paces with a sword. "And she's never picked up a sword before today?" his second in command, Percy, asked him.

"No, she was too small when her mother died for her mother to teach her, not even the simplest moves," Bard reminded him and those guardsmen watching.

"But how?" the man wanted to know. Bard simply shook his head. He had no idea, but Sigrid was good. She was a little off balance, but she'd already told Bard that she'd grown another inch in height before she'd finished. That would explain the slight mistakes that she was making. 

"You're still dropping your shoulder," a female voice rang out as two Elves entered the training yard.

"Tauriel!" Sigrid cried, not looking away from her opponent. That alone told Bard that she'd not only been a Shieldmaiden, but that she'd also been a good one. Most, even those who had trained long enough to know better, would have dropped their defense and looked for their friend.

"Sigrid, I'm so glad that you said yes. I would hate to be alone in this," the lady Elf said, as she came to stand beside Bard. 

"Alone?" he asked, not looking away from Sigrid's match.

"Yes, I too am Twice-Born, although I wasn't sure that Sigrid had agreed to return," the lady Elf said. "I am Tauriel, currently the Captain of the Greenwood guard, and this is Legolas, Prince of the Greenwood."

"Bard, Sigrid's father, and Captain of the guard of Laketown, such as it is," he said greeting the Elves, and not minding admitting that his men were no match for their people. "And what do you mean, agreed?"

Tauriel knew that the other guardsmen were listening in closely, even as they watched Sigrid match the guardsman she was sparring with. "When the Green Lady and the Smith were given permission to chose those who would be Twice-Born, they asked those of us who were their choices. We could have declined, but the need was so great that I could not turn down their request. Nor, it seems could Sigrid, although I was told that as a Daughter of Man she would not remember speaking to the Valar."

Bard nodded, grateful that Sigrid had at least been asked, although the Valar would do as they pleased, gods that they were. "Smaug, and Orc armies she said," he mentioned to Tauriel.

"Yes, that is the beginning," Tauriel told him grimly. "A full lifetime of Men and a bit more it took before it was all over, but the dragon and the Orcs were the beginning. Now is the time when we can make a difference, and hopefully lessen the cost of our victory. Your grandson lost his life in the final battle, an older Man with his own children ready and able to take his place. Eighty years and a bit more until the final battle, but move a pebble and you can start an avalanche, according to the Dwarrow saying." She turned and looked at Bard, as most of the Men were now looking at her rather than Sigrid. "We are the small pebbles, and we will change the course of the avalanche to come."

"HAH! Do you yield?" cried Sigrid, and the guards turned back to her match, only to find that she'd won. The guardsman was on his back with her sword at his throat, nodding in defeat.

"That was terrible," Tauriel told her.

"I know, but I've an inch to grow before I finish as well as muscle to gain and that's throwing me off," Sigrid grumbled as she sheathed her mother's sword. She gave her hand to her opponent, but he ignored her in favor of gaining his feet on his own. Sigrid shrugged and turned away. He'd admitted defeat and that was all that truly mattered. She wasn't his mother to teach him manners.

"We'll get you back up to your usual competence," Tauriel promised. "And we'll make certain that the guardsmen here are ready for the battle." There was only one battle to the two of them, the only one that mattered at any rate. The one where she had lost Kili, and although Sigrid had never known it, she had lost Fili as well.

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They were a week out of Bree when Bofur could no longer stand it. He'd watched as Fili had struggled to take care of the horse Gandalf rode, but refused to allow any of the rest of them care for it. Now he wanted answers. "Alright Fili," he said as Fili returned to the campfire and took a bowl of stew from Kili. "What is that all about with the horse?"

Kili started snickering and Fili smacked him on the head before turning to his supper. "My One's mother was a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. That's where all the ponies and the horse come from. Kili and I went down there as caravan guards to learn the courting customs so that I can show respect for my One. The horse will go to her father, as I ask his permission to attempt to court her. She's the best horse that I could afford, and if Bard grants his permission, he'll give my One the horse for her own. As I understand it, a good looking Rohan woman can gain quite the herd before she gives her hand."

Kili nodded. "Of course Men being Men, the lasses don't always have a choice, but most fathers will at least try to make certain that the suitor is not a bad sort. You wouldn't believe what Fili had to go through to get that horse," he said, as he started snickering again.

"Aye, I've heard of some of the things those poor Daughters of Men go through," Dori said. "Their fathers might as well have the dragon-sickness for the way they treat their daughters. They're practically meat on the market for whatever the highest amount a suitor will bring to the bargaining table. It's down right shameful."

"Not in Rohan," Fili said. "At least not among the ones who walk the Shieldmaid path, and I'm going to treat my One as though she is a Shieldmaid. They're taught to fight as well as any of their men, which is why a suitor will present a horse to her father. If the horse is good enough, that will be the one she'll ride to battle with, so a suitor's intentions are obvious from the start. If he doesn't want a Shieldmaiden, he won't be providing her with a horse trained for battle. If Sigrid's not trained, I'll have Dwalin teach her as he's the best teacher I know, and if she doesn't wish to walk that path, well then at least I've shown her family that I don't expect her to follow that fragile princess nonsense."

"Good, because if your Amad thought you were not treating your One with respect to her fighting abilities, then she'd be the one to teach you how well females fight the hard way," Thorin pointed out from where he sat with his arm around Bilbo. He'd given his chunk of bread to the Hobbit, knowing that it would thicken Bilbo's stew nicely. He was keeping careful watch over his Hobbit this time around, but there was nothing that he could do to stop the slow loss of weight Bilbo would suffer on this quest beyond trying to stop a little sooner so that Bilbo and the boys could go and see if they could gather more food either from hunting or foraging before they fell asleep for the night. 

All of the Company shuddered at the thought. Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain was no faint hearted princess who needed to be rescued by anyone. She fought nearly as well as Dwalin with an axe and led her own group of guards when it came to defending their homes. She'd killed nearly as many Orcs as her sons and was proud of her abilities. She'd thrash anyone who tried to tell her that her that it wasn't her place to wield a weapon. She would want her sons to respect their Ones' abilities in that area and if they didn't, well a thrashing was the least they could expect.

"I'll be glad to teach her if she needs it lad, and I'll be interested in sparing with the she-Elf as well," Dwalin said firmly, as he sharpened his axes. He was looking forward to meeting his princes' Ones. Mahal had matched these lasses to the worst pranksters he'd ever met. It was going to be an interesting meeting.

Kili opened his mouth, but Fili quickly covered it. "NO!" he said firmly. "You're worse than Gloin. I don't want to hear another word about your starlight lady until Rivendell, and only then when you're asking how to court her from Lord Elrond."

"I've been concentrating on teaching Kili Elven speech and what I know of their manners," Balin said above most of the Company laughing at Kili's pouting. Gloin had hurrumphed, and had a put on expression even as he joined Dwalin in axe sharpening. Everyone knew how he could go on about his wife and child, but he wasn't about to stop bragging about them. "I want to know what you know of Girion's line, Fili."

"Bard the Bowman, guard captain and bargeman of Laketown is the eldest of that line left. He has three children and his wife is dead. She was a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. His children are Sigrid, my One, her brother Bain, and her sister Tilda," Fili recited. "Bard's primary weapon is the bow, like Kili, and he's been given the deed name by his peers. He's good enough to hit a single scale on a dragon's hide. That's how Smaug died last time, Bard hit him with a Black Arrow that he inherited from Girion. He's going to be a good king for Dale, as he helps his people where he can. He brought all of us into his home when we first came to Laketown, sneaking us in to avoid the Master who is a dragon in Manflesh. When Kili became ill, he took us back into his home and hid us while Oin and Bofur tried to cure Kili's infection."

"I tried to cure an infection?" Bofur asked, confused. 

"You went for the herbs that Oin needed," Fili explained. Bofur nodded, satisfied with the explanation.

"He's stubborn though," Kili warned. "Not as bad as Uncle Thorin, but he won't back down when he thinks he's right."

"And he'll be the king of Dale?" Balin asked.

"You all understand that in our vision things did not go well at all?" Bilbo asked. The Dwarrow nodded grimly as they tended their weapons. "Well, Laketown was destroyed by Smaug, and the people who survived moved into the ruins of Dale. The Master of Laketown died in the dragonfire and the people made Bard King of Dale both for his line and for killing Smaug. He's a good Man, and his biggest concern is for his family and then his people."

"We'll be taking them into Erebor for the Winter. Even if Smaug does not destroy Laketown, the Orcs probably will," Thorin said. 

Bilbo smiled up at him, obviously proud of his decision. "Good, that will give Fili plenty of time to court Sigrid. Now Fili, besides the horse, what else did you learn?" Nearly everyone leaned in a little closer to hear, busybodies that they all were. Not that Fili minded; he'd take all the advice he could get.


	10. Chapter 10

A week of rain. That's what they'd been suffering through, with cold meals, tired feet stuck walking through mud, and cold, wet clothes that not even their best bad weather gear could protect from the constant rain. The caravan got up at first light, tried to make a meal and get themselves and their animals ready before traveling until it was time for lunch. They would stay put for two hours and then travel again until it was time for supper. The only time the routine deviated was when they encountered areas of the road that needed repairs, and then they rested while the stonemasons got to work.

It was sheer misery.

That being said, there were already friendships between Hobbit and Dwarrow being struck up, and more Dwarrow than just Dwek were making eyes at Hobbit lasses. Holly had seen three Dwarrow lads herself try and make posies to give to a lass. It had been hysterical. It was fairly obvious that the lads had no clue as to how the flower language worked and the messages given in the posies were, to a one, all completely dreadful and contradictory. Holly's mother had taken pity on the lads and had gotten them to at least try and memorize which flowers NOT to give.

The very first time that the rain had let up all of the Hobbits had given voice to thanks to Yavannah. Holly lifted up her voice with the others in song as she hung up her lad's clothes in front of the one of the cook fires to dry. "I thought you were dressing as a lad," came the one voice she didn't want to hear.

"They're wet, Master Dwarf," Holly said, barely able to keep the groan out of her voice. "They need to dry and I've only three sets of clothes. I'll be keeping to the caravan until they're dry enough to wear. Unless you'd prefer that I catch a cold, perhaps?" she added snidely. She shouldn't, she knew she really shouldn't, but she was wet, cold and miserable. The Dwarf could take it, she reassured herself.

The Dwarf flung the load of wood he had in his arms on the fire. "Don't catch them on fire." Then he stomped off again before Holly could retort.

"OOOOHHHHH!" she fumed.

"He found you again, didn't he?" Ivy asked, as she brought over an armful of wet clothing.

"Yes he did, and he told me not to burn my clothes like I was a fauntling playing around a fire!" Holly snarled.

Ivy sighed. The strange dwarf would show up, insult Holly, and be off again before they could find out who he was. There was a pattern forming, but Ivy wasn't sure what to make of it. Dwek wasn't being helpful in the slightest about it either. At least Holly 'won' the encounters as often as she 'lost' them. "There's no use in getting worked up about it. He'll do as he pleases, no matter what." She hung up the clothes she had, and turned the ones already hanging by the fire.

"I know," Holly sighed. She hadn't planned on getting wet for days on end and the only time she was warm was when she was sleeping in her cart. Thankfully she had put a canvas cover on it, so what was in the cart stayed dry at least. "He just makes me so mad. I may not be of age, but I'm no fauntling to be pet on the head and told to go home because it's too dangerous out here."

"He can't make you do anything," Ivy pointed out. "We're here. We're on our way to Erebor. Nothing is going to stop us now."

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"Oh, Thank Yavannah!" Bilbo said as the rain finally tapered off. Just because he'd been expecting the rain did not mean that he had enjoyed it. He'd prepared as best as he could, but there was nothing to be done about it but slog through it. Not even being able to tease Gandalf when Dori had finally broken down and asked for the wizard to stop the rain had lifted his spirits. He hummed a hymn, looking forward to see if he could spot the destroyed farmhouse that should be just ahead.

"I'm glad that's over," Fili said with a sigh. 

Thorin turned back to give Fili and Kili a Look. "Yes, Uncle," they chorused, looking chastised. The other dwarrow looked at each other in confusion. Neither prince had done anything that they were aware of. "We're planning on putting the ponies in the farmhouse, Uncle," Fili promised.

"We won't lose them this time," Kili promised as well.

Thorin grunted but turned back to the road as the rest of the Company started snickering. Little things like this kept coming up and had proven to be very amusing to those watching. 'It won't happen this time,' had become a reoccurring theme with the lads. "Just make certain that you don't," Thorin said. "I don't want to be chased into Rivendell on foot again. And no shenanigans when we're there!" he raised his voice to be heard by the rest of the Company. "It's going to be Kili's first attempt at diplomacy and no one is to make things more difficult for him."

Sounds of agreement, and a few cheerful insults, came back from the line of ponies as Bilbo led the rest of the Company off the road and up a trail to the aforementioned farmhouse. It still had three walls and most of a roof, which meant that there was room to get out of the weather as well as a fireplace that - if Bilbo remembered correctly - still worked. All of which meant that they would soon have a hot meal and dry clothes, even if he wasn't planning on being able to sleep much that night.

"Do you have a plan?" Thorin asked, as everyone set to making up camp. "You've got that look on your face that tells me I should be looking for chaos to start soon."

Bilbo shot him a withering look. "Of course I have a plan. And no, this time it does not involve parasites! It took you forever to catch on to what I was doing last time and I don't want to end up covered in troll snot again, thank you very much!"

Thorin merely laughed. "What do you need?" he asked. He glimpsed Dori making a face, clearly having overheard Bilbo's complaint.

"Just to borrow Ori and his slingshot, and for the rest of you to wait here. He's my backup plan if things do not go as I hope they will. He'll come get you if I need help," Bilbo promised.

"You are certain?" Thorin asked. "There are three of them, Bilbo, and they nearly tore you into pieces last time."

"They'll never even know I was there," Bilbo promised. "Ori! When you've eaten and gotten dry, I need your help with something." The Hobbit bustled off, going over to the fire and Bombur's camp kitchen. 

Helping with dinner was something that helped to calm Bilbo's nerves. He wasn't as sure of himself as he made out to Thorin. Oh, there was no doubt that he'd be able to do what he had planned. The trolls really were that stupid after all, and he'd gotten a lot better at sneaking around. But there was always a slim chance that the trolls would be immune to what he had planned. It wasn't a very big chance, but it was there all the same, and thus Bilbo was more nervous than he wanted to let on.

"Are you sure you don't need us to do anything, Bilbo?" Fili asked, sharpening one of his many knives when dinner was over.

"I'm certain. Just be ready in case this doesn't work," Bilbo said, pulling a large for him package out of his saddle bags. "Ori is a good enough scout to bring the rest of you to the trolls if things don't work out and you lot are needed to kill them. It shouldn't come to that though."

"But what are you planning?" Thorin asked, beginning to get frustrated.

"I'm just going to give them a little gift from my mother," Bilbo said with a grin, one echoed by Gandalf. "Come along, Ori!" With that he hustled the young dwarf ahead of him and out into the forest.

To a one, all of the dwarrow turned to stare at Gandalf. "If he's planning on what I think he's planning, then the trolls don't stand a chance," Gandalf told them with a smirk. The dwarrow sighed in relief, but still readied their weapons, just in case.

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"Are you sure about this, Master Baggins?" Ori asked, fingering his slingshot.

"Yes, Ori, and please call me Bilbo. Now, you see that light up ahead?" Bilbo asked, bringing them down to crouch behind a fallen tree. Ori nodded. "Good, now that is the trolls' campfire. I want you to climb a tree and find a spot where you can see them clearly. Once you're up there, use your slingshot to make a noise on the far side of their camp. That will hopefully distract them long enough for me to sneak in and out. Once I've finished, I'll climb up into your tree and we'll watch together to make certain this works."

"But," Ori began.

Bilbo grinned and interrupted. "My mother was Belladonna Took, my lad, and she had a fondness for her namesake." With that, Ori's eyes grew round and Bilbo's grin grew fierce. "Up you go now lad, and make certain that you're not seen." Ori nodded, and set off to find a tree.

Bilbo was able to keep track of Ori simply because no dwarf, however slight and young, could ever hope to match the lightness of foot of a Hobbit. To Bilbo's ears even Ori, who didn't wear the heavy armor and weapons that were fairly standard for his people, was loud enough to wake the birds from the trees and send the game running for miles. Bilbo moved himself into place. Once Ori had shot off a few stones from his slingshot, and the trolls turned their attention away from their fire, Bilbo snuck over to the campfire and dropped the roots and berries he had in his package into the stew pot. Then he hurried back to join Ori in his tree.

The three large and bumbling trolls were just as he remembered, and Bilbo wasn't at all surprised to see that after they'd finished arguing, one troll wandered off looking for whatever had made the noise as the other two turned back to their supper. It didn't take long for the missing troll to return, complaining that he hadn't found anything. By then the other two were slurping up the stew and apparently enjoying the taste. The third began fighting for his share, and that was when Bilbo began to really relax, for the first two trolls were beginning to feel the effects of the belladonna. 

The trolls' faces were turning red and they began to, (quite horribly), sing and dance. The last troll guzzled down the last of the stew as the first began to try and swipe something out of the sky, talking about pretty birdies. It didn't take long for the other two trolls to join him in hallucinations, although Bilbo could quite have done without hearing one of them trying to sweet talk a tree into fornicating. 

One by one the trolls slowly weakened, and dropped to the ground. When all three were laying down and barely moving, Bilbo nodded in satisfaction. "It's all over for them, I'm afraid," he told Ori. "There's no antidote for belladonna once the poison has reached this stage. They will either succumb to the poison or be turned to stone when the sun rises, if not both. You may as well fetch the others now."

Ori nodded, trusting that Bilbo knew what he was talking about, and climbed down out of the tree before hurrying off to collect the rest of the Company. He knew that everyone would be wanting to actually see the trolls, especially Nori. Now every dwarrow respected their maker, and honored him as the father of their race, but right now was like living in one of the tales from the War of Wrath, or one of the few other times that Mahal had taken a somewhat direct hand in the way things were going. For the more skeptical dwarrow among them, this would show them that Thorin, Bilbo and the boys weren't trying to run some sort of funny business in order to get them to do things in Mahal's name.

"Well?" came from every direction as soon as Ori reached the farmhouse.

"They're on their way to being dead, if they aren't already," Ori said. "Bilbo said to come and collect you so that you could see for yourselves."

That got everyone's attention, and Dori and Nori bracketed Ori as everyone took off to where the trolls' camp was. "Well?" Nori whispered.

"They're there," Ori confirmed again. "Three huge mountain trolls, and Bilbo poisoned them. He says that if they aren't dead from the poison by dawn, then the sun will turn them to stone." He patted his brother's hand and suffered Dori's checking to see that he hadn't gotten hurt from his little adventure. "They're just up here."

Ori lead the group straight into the trolls' camp, where they found Bilbo sighing over the sight of the three trolls, who seemed to be suffering from convulsions. "I've got them, Bilbo!"

"Oh good. Thank you, Ori," Bilbo said.

"What did you do to them?" Thorin asked, watching the trolls carefully.

"I spiked their stew with belladonna," Bilbo said simply. "The plant is very poisonous, but it has its uses as a medicinal plant. My mother was named for it and always had some growing in her gardens for the apothecary."

Fili and Kili each patted Bilbo on the back. "Well, you know what they would have done if you hadn't poisoned them," Fili pointed out. "I really don't want to repeat that little incident. There's only so much you can say about getting caught and almost roasted by mountain trolls."

"At least this time you didn't have to give them advice on cooking Dwarrow!" Kili said cheerfully. "I'd really rather that Tauriel doesn't hear about the parasites."

"Don't want her to hear that you had the biggest ones of all?" Fili teased.

"About as much as you don't want Sigrid to hear that you almost got roasted," Kili said.

"At least I didn't tell anyone I had parasites as big as my arm!" Fili retorted. 

It didn't take long after that for the two to begin wrestling and making childish threats at each other and Thorin just sighed. Bilbo patted his arm. "Actually I'm glad to see this," he admitted.

"Your glad to see that my heirs are just as childish as they were when we first left the Blue Mountains?" Thorin asked with a groan.

"No, I'm glad that dying didn't take away their ability to laugh and make other's laugh," Bilbo said quietly. "Leave them to it, Thorin. If things don't go well this time, we won't have another chance."

Thorin nodded. Even if Mahal had promised him that there would be no return of the goldsickness, there was still the Battle of Five Armies to get through, and in battle no promises could be made. "Come, Bilbo, let's get your Sting."

"Why Sting?" Dwalin asked as Bilbo led the way to the Troll cave, leaving the wrestling princes behind. "Strange name for a weapon."

"From the spiders of Mirkwood," Bilbo admitted. "It was my first real battle. I mean I faced down Azog, but that wasn't more than a skirmish, and the spiders cried out when I sliced them up that, "It stings!" It seemed to me to be a rather nice name for it, and so Sting it became. It wasn't like it had a name before then, seeing as how it's actually an Elven dagger. It makes a nice sized sword for a Hobbit though. Big Folk are just far too tall."

"AYE!" came from behind them, along with comments on 'all stretched out' and 'so skinny you could knock them over with a feather'. 

Dwalin looked at Thorin to confirm that the Hobbit had faced Azog and Thorin nodded. He spoke quietly as the rest of the Company made complaints about the over sized half of the world. "It was the first time I really knew that Azog had survived. His Orcs had us trapped, and I went to face him. Bilbo defended me against an Orc that Azog had sent to take my head when my clash with him resulted in his Warg using me as a chew toy. That was when I could no longer hold back the fact that he was my One."

"Humph," Dwalin muttered. "Of course you tried to hide it, idiot. He's perfect for you. He's got all that diplomacy that you lack and he's good at organizing things with other races. Put him on the Consort's throne and Erebor will prosper no matter how bad you are at being king."

Thorin shook his head. "He still refuses. He says that his task from the Valar must take precedence, and that our people should not wait on him as he is unlikely to survive his journey."

Dwalin shot him a startled glance. "How bad is it?" he wanted to know.

"I don't know," Thorin admitted. "He refuses to tell me. He says that it is a journey that I can not make with him, as Erebor will need me. I am hoping that if you survive the battle to come, you will go with him."

"I will be your arm and sword," Dwalin swore.


	11. Chapter 11

The people of Lake Town were gathered in the town square, the news of both Sigrid's return from the dead to her past and the two Elves of Mirkwood having been spread far and wide by those who had seen Sigrid fight. Tauriel was deep in conversation with a few of the town's farmers when the Master of Lake Town showed up. "The dragon will be bad enough, but the Orc armies will be far worse. They care not if you are a warrior or a helpless babe."

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?!?!?!" snarled a large, fat Man as he stormed into the town square.

"I am Tauriel, Captain of the Woodland Guard, and this is Prince Legolas," Tauriel began only to be interrupted.

"A likely story! You two Elven whores get out of my town and stop stirring up trouble!" he began. 

Tauriel looked shocked for a moment before her expression turned to fury. In an instant she had her blades out and had cut the Man's head completely off his shoulders mid insult. "Is there another who can speak for Lake Town?" she snarled. "One who will not tender deadly insult to the youngest son of the King of the Woodland Realm?"

The crowd stood in shock, and one of the women whispered, "Bard?" as Alfrid Lickspittle, (who had been standing next to the Master), began to edge away from the corpse.

Bard sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "He is, and the Master did," he said loudly. "Let's not trouble the Elves with our town's choosing of a new Master." He turned to the Elves. "Your highness, perhaps you would like to have a meal and a drink at the Broken Anchor. It's not much, but it's the best tavern we have." Legolas, who had at first looked confused, and then furious when Tauriel had begun whispering to him in their own tongue, nodded abruptly to Bard. Bard summoned one of the youngsters hanging about, and had him take the Elves to the tavern.

"Alright," he said, when he thought the small group was far enough away. "We all know the Master was so greedy he couldn't see what was in front of him and it would get him in trouble one day, and I'm sorry that it came to that, Lena, but he really did bring it on himself."

The older woman, the former Master's only living relative, only sighed. "As much as I hate it, you're right, Bard. He brought it onto himself. Anyone can see that the Elves were not ones to be insulted. That girl was bristling with weapons, for one thing."

Bard nodded. "She's the Captain of the Guard as she said, and honestly, I'm fairly certain that she's also the Prince's bodyguard. The Elves are different to us, but not different enough as to not take insult when a royal is called a whore in public."

Practically as one the entire crowd winced. They knew why the former Master had done so, of course. Both of the Elves were far too pretty, and some of them hadn't been certain that Legolas was a male, before Tauriel had said so. Of course the Master had thought that he could just trample over a couple of young girls, Elves or not, and order them to do whatever it was he wanted. The Man had been one of those who believed that females, no matter their race, belonged only in the kitchen - tending children and doing other domestic chores. 

"We'd better chose a new Master, and make it quick," Percy said. "We don't want to keep the Prince waiting for too long; especially since he was here to warn us of trouble."

The crowd agreed and it wasn't long before someone offered up Bard's name. Before he could object, Sigrid stood up on one of the crates around the edge of the square so as to be seen. "Da can't," she said simply. "He's got to spend his time training up all our Men, aye and some of our women too, to defend themselves and others. Like the Captain said, there is trouble coming this Autumn. We can't do much of anything about that dragon, but we can prepare for the Orcs. He'll need to be in charge of that."

"Do you really think that the Elves are right?" came from the crowd. 

Bard didn't try to identify the asker. "The Gods themselves sent us back our only Shieldmaiden; my daughter, Sigrid. You all knew my wife. You know that Sigrid is her spitting image. I'm not surprised that she took her mother's path. She woke this morning a warrior. She even took down one of the guard in a sparring match. If Eru is sending us back one of our own in this way, then yes - I believe the Elves."

"Why your daughter? Why not your wife?" came from the crowd.

"I don't know," Bard said, "But I intend to ask the Elves. Tauriel is said to have come back as well. I'm hoping that she has more answers than just about the Orcs."

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Broen, Guildmaster of the Merchants Guild, (such as it was), followed Bard and his daughter, Sigrid, down to the Broken Anchor. There was barely a Merchant's Guild at all in Lake Town, the Master having done his best to bleed the town dry, but Broen and the few other merchants in Lake Town did their best to supply the town so their neighbors would have the supplies they needed to survive. The small profit they made, after the Master's taxes and fees and fines, made them the best off in a town that was barely getting by. It made sense that the rest of the town would elect Broen in the Master's place.

At the Broken Anchor Prince Legolas and Tauriel had been given seats in the place of honor nearest the hearth. The Elves were talking quietly, in contrast to the rest of the tavern where the Men were celebrating the death of the former Master. "Prince Legolas, I apologize for your treatment at the hands of our former Master," Broen began, as the three of them sat down at the Prince's table. "I am Broen, the new Master of Lake Town. I am told that the two of you came here to bring us warning?"

Legolas nodded regally in acceptance of the apology. "Let us not talk about the former Master. He has had his punishment for his insolence, and I am not one to impose punishment where it has not been earned. As for our warning, you have been told of the Twice-Born, correct?"

Broen nodded. "I am not sure about it, but then I am just a poor merchant. I have not the years of an Elf, nor the education of a royal such as yourself, so I am going by what my eyes see, and what I see is a Lake Town girl who can suddenly take on a guard and beat him in a fair fight with a sword when she's never touched one before. I am certain that her skills with the bow is just as good. That has the mark of the Valar all over it, and I am not one to defy the Valar."

"Good," Tauriel said. "Now, there is little that can be done to prepare for the dragon except to not be here when he comes. Smaug will wake at the end of Autumn and, should what has been planned not work, he will attack Lake Town. That is bad enough, but a few weeks after two Orc armies will attack the ruins of Dale, where your people will take refuge, and Erebor. That is what we must prepare for."

"Two Orc armies," Broen said faintly.

"Two thousand Elves, five hundred Dwarrow, three hundred Men, against nearly thirty thousand Orcs, Goblins, Wargs, and other such filth as the darkness could muster," Sigrid recited softly. "That was our numbers, and although we won in the end, our losses were far too great."

Broen and Bard both looked horrified. "But we have nearly a thousand Men who can fight," Broen said.

Sigrid nodded and Bard cursed. "Smaug! The dragon must have killed nearly everyone when he attacked the town, or wounded them enough that they couldn't fight."

"That is why we were sent back," Tauriel said. "We must change this for the better. The armies are coming. They are preparing to march now. We must be better prepared to meet them, and to survive the winter after."

"But why was Sigrid sent back?" Bard asked. "Why not another who could actually do something about the preparations?"

"This was done at the request of the Smith and the Green Lady," Tauriel said. "Only those who could be claimed by those Valar could be sent back, and Sigrid and I were both made to be the Heart's Ease of a Dwarf."

"Heart's Ease?" Bard questioned.

Sigrid took pity on her father. "Heart's Ease is the Elvish term for a Soul Mate, Da. Mine must have fallen in the battle, as did her Kili. It makes sense in a way, I never did fit in with the women of Dale. The way the Dwarrowdams of Erebor lived always made much more sense to me. I had a Trade and Craft just like they did, and I never could stand to be told that I couldn't, that it wasn't lady like."

Tauriel held her tongue on the subject of the Dwarrow in question, although it was plain to see that Bard wanted to know just who Sigrid's One was, and why his daughter would be subject to having to be like a lady even if her dwarf had fallen. "I will not tell you what your people should do, but this is the first step in a war to come. The Enemy begins to move again. Erebor must stand as Guardian of the North, and the North Men and the Wood Elves must stand at her side when the time comes to fight the darkness."

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Bilbo sat down on a log outside of, and well away from, the stench emanating from the troll cave as they approached it. "You will not join us?" Thorin asked.

"No thank you, twice was more than enough for me," Bilbo said politely. 

"Twice?" Thorin asked

"Yes, I stopped here on my return trip to the Shire. Gloin and the others insisted that I take their long term deposit so I did, even if the chest still stank of troll sixty three years later," Bilbo shuddered at the memory. 

Thorin smiled in commiseration, patted Bilbo on the shoulder and entered the cave. It was as dark and dank as he remembered, and just as rank. He swiftly moved to the barrel where he knew Orcrist would be waiting. He quickly took the sword, slung it across his back, and handed Glamdring to Gandalf. "There is an Elvish long dagger around here somewhere. You found it last time, so I have no idea where it is. It's Bilbo's sword."

The two of them began looking around for Sting, as Gloin, Bofur and Nori began making their 'long term deposit' as Gloin was telling Dwalin. Thorin merely smiled at Dwalin as he began searching among the other swords. 

Dwalin sighed and began searching as well. "What does Sting look like, anyway?" he wanted to know.

"It's a long dagger," Thorin repeated. "It's a match for the sword that Tharkun has."

At that, Gandalf pulled the dusty, cobweb encrusted, sword out of it's sheath for he and Dwalin to examine. Just as he moved to share the sword with the guard, he kicked a metal object under the mast on the floor of the cave. A quick shove with his boot proved that it was a dagger, and he picked it up. Dwalin took the sword from him as he pulled the dagger from it's sheath. The two matched. "Yes, that's it!" Thorin said, when he looked over at the two.

Dwalin shoved the sword back at Gandalf and took the dagger. The Weaponsmaster examined it carefully, testing the edge and feeling the heft and balance. "Aye, this will do. It's light enough for the Hobbit, and not too long for his reach. The smith work is good, should last him a good long time."

"These were made in Gondolin, for the Goblin Wars. They will glow when Orcs or Goblins are near, and they will retain their edge no matter how long the battle," Gandalf said, resheathing his sword.

"Good," Dwalin said shortly. "He'll need every advantage he can get if that battle they were shown happens. Nasty business when a Hobbit has to go to war."

"Agreed," Thorin and Gandalf chorused. The three of them headed back to the entrance to the cave, pulling Gloin, Bofur and Nori along with them. 

"Here," Dwalin said to Bilbo as the three of them came upon the Hobbit on his log. "We found your Sting." He handed the Hobbit his sword.

"Oh thank the Valar!" Bilbo said, as he hurriedly cleaned off the sheath and buckled it around his waist. He pulled the sword, checking to see that it was still the same sword and that it was intact, although he knew Thorin would have made certain of it.

"I'll start you training on that the next time we camp," Dwalin said. "It's a good size for ye." Dwalin was interrupted by Fili and Kili arriving with the ponies and urging everyone to get on them. "What's this now?" 

"Right, best be going soon," Bilbo said, and resheathed Sting. He grabbed his pony just as a large something came crashing through the bushes.

Thorin looked to see that it was Radagast before turning to urge his people up on their ponies. "UP! NOW! Take up arms!" he called. "We ride to Rivendell from here!"

The two wizards were consulting each other as they had before, but this time he saw that Bilbo had gone over to them, leaving his pony with Gloin. "I'm sorry, Radagast, but there is something that you should know."

Radagast peered at Bilbo. "A Hobbit? What is a Hobbit doing all the way out here? I'm not that close to the Shire, am I?"

"No, the Green Lady has sent me on a quest, and I'm afraid that you are being called to your duties as an Istari," Bilbo said grimly. "That is no Necromancer that you sensed. It is what remains of the Enemy, and he is on the move." The wizard paled, and Bilbo nodded. "Now, normally I would say that we should simply be on our way and that we'd discuss this in Rivendell, but I'm afraid that Gandalf will need your help to get Saruman to return to Valinor, and you will have to take his place in ridding Dol Guldur of Sauron."

"But!" Radagast protested.

"Aiwendil!" Bilbo snapped. "You know perfectly well that you can match Saruman for power, if not in lore. I know it is not your preference to deal with Men, Elves and Dwarrow, but you must. A few short years as you wizards measure things and it will all be over. Now, I'm certain that the Lady will allow you to retire here in Middle Earth if that is to your liking, but in the meantime, you have a job to do."

"Are you certain that he will not take the Consort's throne?" Balin asked Thorin in a whisper.

Thorin shook his head. "Perhaps after his task for the Valar is done, and his heir is ready to take her position he will relent, but not before."

At that moment, two Wargs burst into the clearing. Kili shot one, and Fili killed the other, both having been waiting for them. Gandalf shot a look at Thorin, but he simply shook his head and cried, "Ride to Rivendell! We must get there ahead of the Orcs!"

Bilbo ran over to where Gloin was holding his pony, and then they were all off, riding as fast as the ponies could carry them for Rivendell. He and Kili dropped to the back of the group, pulling their bows. The Rohan ponies were trained for this. They ignored the dropped reins and followed the other ponies while their riders aimed their bows back over to where the Orc band could just be seen. "I'm not sure that the Elves will be helping this time, Thorin!" he called.

Thorin cursed as he realized just what Bilbo meant. Without the argument with Gandalf, the wizard had not gone to warn the Elves that they were coming. They were going to be on their own for this one.

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Bilbo was fervently glad that he had practiced with his bow every day once he'd returned. Although Kili and Tauriel, once they reunited with her, would always be better archers than he, his aim was one of the best in the Shire. Warg after Warg fell to Hobbit arrows shot through their eyes into their brains, as Kili took out their riders, his bow being far more powerful than Bilbo's. As neither archer stinted on their arrows, knowing that they could get more in Rivendell, it did not take long for the two to run out.

Bilbo then switched to his sling, and the hunting bullets he'd taken with him from the Shire. These were cast lead and the largest were heavy enough to take off the top of a Man's head if it hit correctly. "Ori!" he called, holding up his sling. He'd given Ori a large pouch full of the bullets, knowing that although Ori was perfectly capable of fighting with the war hammer that Dwalin had insisted he bring with him, the dwarf preferred his slingshot.

Ori nodded, and dropped back into Kili's place, urging Kili towards the front. Bilbo knew that they just had to hold the Orcs off long enough to get to Rivendell. Once there, the Elves would take over and they would be safe. It was a long ride, but although Bilbo and Ori were not as effective with their slings as Bilbo and Kili had been with their bows, (mostly because neither of them had thought to practice slinging while riding), they still managed to get knock quite a few Orcs off their Wargs, most of those with crushed skulls.

It was just as they reached Rivendell that the last of the Orc pack, (the pack having been whittled down from twenty to five), finally reached the Company. Dwalin had been keeping an eye on the three with their only distance weapons, and slowed down just as the first of the Orcs reached Ori. Bilbo knew that Dwalin preferred his axes, Grasper and Keeper, but instead he pulled out his war hammer, and with a swing, landed a solid blow to the Orc who was threatening Ori, completely destroying the Orc's face. 

Bilbo winced, and he really shouldn't have been paying so much attention to Ori and Dwalin. It allowed an Orc to sneak up on him, as much as chasing the Hobbit all over the plains before Rivendell could be called sneaking. Fortunately for Bilbo, the Orc struck when it had barely reached striking distance - thus only the tip of it's sword connected with Bilbo's leg. It was enough to create a long wound, but it did not reach deep enough to cut the big blood vessel there. 

Bilbo screamed and dropped his sling. He had been training though for just this sort of possibility, (that of an Orc getting too close when he had been using his sling or bow), thinking of the Battle of Five Armies. Even in pain, the moment he dropped his sling he reached for Sting. As the Orc came close enough for another swing at Bilbo, Sting was swung around wildly and cut it's throat. Sobbing in pain, Bilbo galloped the last bit of road into Rivendell while the remaining Orcs turned around and fled the Elves' border guard who left the valley even as the Company rode in.


	12. Chapter 12

Rukuc, son of Hethuc, was a frustrated Dwarf. Every time he tried to talk with his One, it turned out badly. No matter what he did, he always put his boot in it, usually up to his knee. Fortunately he had plenty of medicines to make up this evening so he could bury himself in his work. A lot of the younger Hobbits, (and he thanked Mahal that there were no actual children among them), had come down with colds because of the week of rain. After seeing what a cold actually entailed, (Dwarrow not being able to get them), he winced over his One's asking if he wanted her to catch one. The poor mites were miserable, but still trying to be cheerful, telling him and the other Healers that whatever they had to face to get to their new homes was worth it. Honestly, that alone had hit him hard, as he remembered what it was like before Thorin's Halls, when the Longbeards still searched for a new home.

"Oh, it's you, Master Dwarf!" said a startled voice behind him.

Rukuc took a deep breath and prayed that Mahal would guide him. "Yes, are you looking for a Healer?"

"Well, that would be why I'm in the Healer's tent," Holly said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"You don't have one of those colds - tonic for your sister? Your youngest? About so tall, this wide in the shoulders, a bit skinny for a Hobbit," Rukuc asked. He could see his One building up a head of steam, but he finished the description without stopping. "Because she's still growing?"

Holly stopped the tirade she had been building up in shock. "Yes, how did you know?"

Rukuc just nodded. "It seems that all of the young ones are getting these colds. That week of rain we had was nasty and most likely was the cause. I've been making up tonics for them for the past two days, poor mites." He swiftly pulled the herbs he needed together and quickly mixed up the tonic for her. 

"A teaspoon of that in a cup of ale or wine three times a day. If your family doesn't have the ale or wine, then you can use tea, but I'll tell you now that you should use plenty of honey to disguise the taste. The honey will help soothe her throat as well. If you have any of those lemons or other sour fruit or if you can find lemongrass, make a tea of it and add honey for whenever she wants a drink. Nothing cold, only warm or hot drinks, and thin stew, twice as much broth as meat and vegetables. Make certain that she gets twice as much to make up the amount of food a thick stew would have given her. She can't stand to lose any weight as she's growing still, but the thinner stew will be easier on her throat," he instructed Holly.

Holly took the tonic from him in a bit of a daze. "Thank you, Master Healer," she said with a small bow. 

"You're welcome," Rukuc said, with a return bow. "Illness tends to spread among families, so try to stay dry and warm and eat enough to keep your strength up," he added. 

"I will," Holly promised and left the tent to return to her family.

"Well, that didn't go so bad," Rukuc muttered to himself. Perhaps there was hope after all.

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"WE NEED A HEALER!!!!" Thorin yelled as he pulled his pony up in the courtyard that was the entrance to Rivendell. He threw himself off of his pony and ran for Bilbo. He helped his Hobbit down from his pony and immediately lost Bilbo to two Elves who swiftly took him up and carried him off. "TAKE CARE OF HIS LEG!" Thorin thundered as he charged after them.

Fili hit Kili's shoulder, to get his brother to look at him. "It's your turn," he hissed. "I'll take care of the Company." Kili nodded, and after dismounting his pony, went over to where Lord Elrond and some of his household were now approaching the group. Fili didn't bother watching as Kili bowed before Elrond and began his speech.

Fili gathered the Company and had them walking their ponies to cool them down from their headlong flight into Rivendell. "Don't worry about the Elves," he instructed. "That's Kili's job. We need to take care of our mounts until Kili says we can get them into the stables."

"And Bilbo?" Dwalin wanted to know as he handled both his pony and Thorin's.

"Lord Elrond is the greatest Healer in Middle Earth. His people will take good care of Bilbo, and Uncle will make certain of it," Fili said. He had his pony and Kili's and was watching to make certain that Gandalf was treating his One's horse well.

Bombur had Bilbo's pony as well as his own carefully walking in circles around the courtyard. "We need to get some apples," he told Bofur. "They deserve a treat after that ride."

"And they will get them, Master Dwarf," said an Elf as he led a group of what was obviously grooms and hostlers over to the Dwarrow. After many reassurances, the Dwarrow let the Elves take their mounts, and gathered behind Kili.

Fili winced as Kili asked, "Is my Sandarin that bad, Lord Elrond?"

Lord Elrond chuckled. "No, young Kili. It is only that I would have your people understand me."

"Oh good, because I've been practicing for months," Kili said. "This is my elder brother, Fili, and our Company - Gloin, Oin, Balin, Dwalin, Ori, Nori, Dori, Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur. My uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, went with Bilbo Baggins, our Hobbit and injured member, and I'm certain that you know Gandalf."

"Be welcome, all of you, to Rivendell," Elrond said with a nod. "Your companion shall find healing in our halls. From what I could see his wound is not grievous, although I would recommend a short stay until he can walk easily again. Your mounts are being cared for, so please, allow Lindir to show you to rooms where you can refresh yourselves before dinner."

Kili bowed. "You have our thanks, Lord Elrond. Bilbo is precious to us, and I know my uncle will not be able to leave his side until he is healed. We are grateful for his healing and for your hospitality."

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Lindir showed the Company to a suite of rooms, five of them all off of one sitting room, after sending Gandalf to his regular room. Dori grabbed hold of both of her brothers and hurried them into the one farthest from the door out of the suite. As the only Dwarrowdam in the group the room was hers by right, and she wasn't about to let her brothers out of her sight - or that was the impression that she wanted to give.

"Alright then, Nori," she began as she unpacked her travel kit. "You heard what his majesty said - no shenanigans. That means no stealing, but if you want to play a prank or two no one will mind as long as it's not a harmful one. We're here to make an alliance, which will hopefully mean more warriors at that battle the boys keep talking about, and to get that Elf Lord's help for young Kili in courting his One. So you need to see what you can find out about Silvan Elves. Bilbo said that she was one, and that it would make a difference in how Kili is to court her.

"Ori, I've heard that the library here is one of the best outside of a mountain. See if you can find anything on gold-sickness and dragon hoard curses. The Lord here has been around since the first Age. If anyone knows anything about cleansing the gold, it should be him. Give the librarian those big eyes of yours, look as innocent as I know you can, and beg for help. If you can sound a little scared of the curses on Thror's hoard all the better," Dori said with a decisive nod. Ori nodded in return as he too unpacked his kit. 

"What will you be up to, sister dear?" Nori asked easily, sitting on one of the three beds in the room, twirling one of his knives in his left hand. No one outside of their little family knew that all three of them were actually the Spymaster for Thorin. Thorin had saved Ori's life, although the king didn't know it, and all three had come to the conclusion that this was the best way to pay him back for that life debt, especially since Thorin was the first king to openly admit that they too, were of the line of Durin. Each of them had their specialties; Dori, the Dwarrowdams and the Guilds, Ori, the scribes and the merchants, and Nori, the criminals. If there was something going on, at least one of them would find out about it.

"I will be doing something the rest of you can't," Dori said, and shook out the one dress that she'd brought with her. "I'm going to find the ladies of the house and get the real gossip from them. We're to be allies, and showing that I'm female with help with that."

Nori nodded. "Good choice. They will know that they wouldn't have a clue you weren't a Dwarrow if you didn't say anything, so it's a good show of trust. If there is anything to find in that library, Ori will be the one to find it."

"And you can be the lovable rogue," Ori said. "You know the type, only instead of making a play for the females, ask for help for your brother's playmate. Go on about how the poor lad is stuck with an Elf for a One and no one knows how to court her properly. You don't want his upset to run downhill to your family, so you're taking preemptive action."

Nori nodded. "I can work with that. See if you can find anything about those Shieldmaidens while you're at it. Just to double check for Fili's sake."

"Also anything they have about Esgoroth and Dale," Dori added. "Just because the girl's mother was a Shieldmaiden, doesn't mean that she's going to keep to the same customs." Both of her brother's nodded in agreement, and with the plan of attack ready, the two brothers left their sister to change her clothes, becoming once more Mistress Dori, the best weaver and seamstress in the Blue Mountains.

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Thorin raised his head from his hands as an Elf led Oin and Gloin into the hallway outside of the healing rooms. He was sitting on a bench outside of the room Bilbo was in and he nodded at the door, knowing that it was all Oin needed to see. He gestured to Gloin to join him as Oin stormed into the healing room, brushing right on past the Elves like they weren't even there. The old healer didn't even bother to raise his ear trumpet so that he could hear what the Elves were saying. Rude, but that was most healers to Thorin's knowledge.

"They tell me that Bilbo will be alright, they just need to make certain that there is no Orc filth left in the wound before they close it," Thorin said with a sigh. "What of the others?"

"No other injuries, thanks to Dwalin," Gloin reported. "Kili's already begun his ambassador duties, with Balin and Fili standing close by. Fili stepped up to take charge of the Company without a bit of hesitation. I think that vision did him a world of good. I have to admit that when he, Kili, Ori and Gimli were chasing each other around Thorin's Halls as dwarflings, I had my doubts about how well he would grow into his role, but he's doing nicely now."

"I had no doubts," Thorin said with a smile. "Our little cub has grown into a formidable lion while no one was looking."

"We're taking dinner with the lord of this place, is there anything you want me to pass on to Fili?" Gloin asked.

Thorin nodded. "Make certain that Lord Elrond sees these," he says and passed Orcrist and Sting to Gloin. "His people made them, and he can tell you of their history. Tell him that Orcist has more goblins to kill, and that I will join them as soon as Bilbo is allowed to leave the healing halls."

Gloin nodded and took the weapons carefully. "I'll see to it, your majesty," he said.

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"Oh thank Mahal that's over!" Bofur said, and fell down backwards onto the too large bed along one wall. 

"There'll be more where that came from," Bombur told him, washing his hands at a basin next to the bed he had claimed. "His majesty said that Orcs are going to be a problem on this quest."

:Orcs are a problem whenever they appear: Bifur said, his hands flowing gracefully through the movements of inglishmek.

"True, true," Bofur agreed. "Still, it's going to be worth all of the trouble to see Erebor, and the reward the king offered for being the ones to suffer the troubles is nothing to shake your mattock at either. None of the pebbles will suffer now."

"Aye, and perhaps you'll be able to find your One with all of those Hobbit lasses running around and get your own set of pebbles. I'd love to be an uncle as well as a father," Bombur teased.

"Hey now! None of that!" Bofur threw a pillow at his little brother. "Just because you found yours does not mean that I have to go and find mine. Although, they are a sight to see aren't they?" Bofur asked, the sight of all of the Hobbit lasses in Hobbiton coming to mind. "It wouldn't surprise me to see that a lot of our people's Ones were Hobbits. Might even be what Mahal and his Lady had planned, and if she can cook like her people, it's no wonder she caught the Smith's eye!"

:Such a romantic!: Bifur said, throwing the pillow back at Bofur.

"Well, I have to say that he's right on that one," Bombur admitted. "I've been working on trying to get some of those recipes, but the Hobbits are more stubborn about those than a dwarf with gold-sickness is about giving away a single gold piece!"

"Well, let's see what the Elves eat," Bofur said, trying to cheer him up. "At least if you ask nice, you might be able to get into their kitchens with Bilbo and see what he puts together!"

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"He's a healer," Holly said as she handed over the tonic to her mother.

"Of course you got this from a healer," Daisy said, confused. "That's where I sent you."

"No, I'm talking about that rude dwarf, and ..... maybe he's not actually so rude," Holly said, before shaking off her confusion. She repeated the healer's instructions and went off to sit next to Ivy and Dwek around the campfire while her mother got a cup of ale for Daylily. "Dwek, are all Dwarrow healers rude?"

Dwek looked up from sharpening his sword. "Yes, usually by Hobbit manners, but that's because we Dwarrow are so stubborn. If they tried to be nice all the time they'd never get anything done. Trying to hammer home that a dwarf needs to stay abed and heal is one of the hardest tasks there is. Everyone of us would rather be up and doing something than lay abed all day. We're all of us crafters of one sort or another."

Holly went over all of the interactions that she'd had with the rude dwarf that kept showing up. If she looked at what he'd said, (and she remembered quite a bit about it, even as her twin sister had told her to let it go), then maybe he really hadn't been so rude to her, especially if he was only treating her as he'd treat a dwarrowdam. She'd met quite a few by now, and they were all quite stubborn, even for being warriors and stone masons. 

"Perhaps he was only trying to give you advice?" Ivy asked, echoing her thoughts.

"Perhaps," Holly allowed. "Trying to keep an eye on all of us Hobbits must be giving him headaches. You know how healers are, always trying to make certain that everyone is taken care of, especially since to him it must seem like we must not be able to take care of ourselves out here in the wilds. He called me a soft little thing, after all."

"Aye, to us you Hobbits are soft and little," Dwek said. "Which is just perfect to my way of thinking. I'd always said that I'd rather not have a 'dam for my One. They're some of the scariest beings in Middle Earth, especially when they've got their dander up. I saw the Princess Dis take on five Orcs on her own once because one of them made a grab at young Prince Fili when he was just a dwarfling when we Longbeards were still on the road looking for a new home." He shuddered, and after setting his sword and whetstone down, pulled Ivy in close to him. "Scary!" he declared with a shiver.

"Well, you needn't be worried about that anymore," Ivy said with a smile. "I'll protect you from the scary dwarrowdams." 

The two of them made eyes at each other, and Holly wanted to roll her own. They were sickeningly sweet together. She didn't know how Ivy could stand it, but then she and Ivy had always been opposites. Where she was bold, Ivy was retiring, where she was loud, Ivy was quiet; although neither of them was the typical prankster type that Hobbit twins were known for. Why, quite a few Hobbit matrons had complemented her mother on how well brought up they were as they weren't known for causing trouble. Lasses or not, twins still had a reputation among Hobbits for pranks and trouble of all sorts, and triplets were even worse.

Holly accepted the bowl of stew and the biscuits that Bluebell was handing out to her family. Well, if the rude dwarf wasn't trying to be rude, then she'd best behave better herself. If she tried to be more polite perhaps he'd even tell her just why it was that he kept coming around.


	13. Chapter 13

"Careful lads," Bard whispered as he led his men up to the remains of the old tower where his ancestor Girion had died taking his stand against Smaug. "Last thing we want to do is wake the old beast up." His men nodded instead of answering, and carefully began to sift through the rubble of the tower, intent on finding the old windlance. If it could be repaired, then it would be mounted on the tallest tower of Lake Town. It was, Bard had been assured many times by Tauriel, a backup plan. The first group of Dwarrow coming this Autumn would actually go into the mountain itself to confront the beast, and they had weapons that the Smith had given them to do the job. He would only be needed if the Dwarrows missed their mark in killing Smaug.

All around Dale groups of Men were quietly working; some on the walls, some on a few of the sturdier buildings, and the last on the old storehouses. It was slow going, trying to be as silent as possible, but more than one Man looked up at the mountain in fear anytime any noise was made. The plan was simple. Everything would be evacuated from Lake Town. No one and nothing would be left behind when the Dwarrow finally arrived. They would be safe in Dale, as long as Smaug never realized that they were there, and far safer than they would be in Lake Town when the Orcs arrived.

In order to do that, those working on the walls were actually just moving the rubble around so that it would be easier to fix them after Smaug was dead. Those working on the buildings were actually just working on the ones that still had roofs. Smaug would not notice if the walls of a building were fixed, he would only notice work on the roof as he flew overhead. Everyone would be huddled into those buildings, not making a sound until the all clear was given. The storehouses, those that still stood, would be filled with the harvest, as much smoked and salted fish and meat they could produce, and firewood taken from deadfalls in Mirkwood. 

Bard was even thinking that he could take a few groups of Men to go hunting on the plains for the wild cattle that roamed there, and several of the farmers had already asked him about escorts there to gather hay. Apparently the grasses on that side of the lake was better for hay for some reason that Bard had no clue about. He was a guardsman and a bargeman. He knew nothing of farming.

"Found it!" One of the Men whispered. 

The windlance was definitely broken, but from what Bard could see it could be repaired. Carefully the pieces were picked up and taken to a cart. Bard nodded once the windlance was secured. "All right lads. Take it back to Lake Town. Have the blacksmith take a look at it. He may not be up to repairing it, but those dwarves should be able to once they get here." He saw them off and then went to check the other groups. Working in silence was terribly difficult, especially since it meant that no one was able to use a hammer, but Lake Town had many very skilled carpenters. They were making things that could be built in Lake Town and set in place to be hammered in as soon as Smaug was dead. He just prayed to Eru that it would be enough.

Bard consulted the map Sigrid had drawn him of Dale, telling him that she had spent the rest of her life there. The town's hall should be intact, and Sigrid had told him that it was a good place to stage the reconstruction from. If nothing else, the hall should be able to hold all of the workers and their maps, reports, and other such paperwork that came from attempting such a big project. He'd better find it so that they could all have a central location to report to.

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"Your father," Tauriel said casually as she and Legolas walked down the hall towards the king's Chambers, "is a bigot and a bit of a coward."

"Tauriel," Legolas groaned. "You'll get in trouble if anyone hears you." Fortunately they were the only ones in the hall at the moment, but it was never wise to say such things where there was any chance that his father could hear or that someone who wanted to gain his favor could hear her. Legolas hated such tale tattlers, finding them contemptible, but his father tolerated them and told him that such was needed when one was a king. Legolas simply thought that his father enjoyed making people dance to his tune, and Legolas couldn't see doing that himself.

Tauriel shrugged his admonition off. "I'm Twice-born. That offers me protection from even the king when there are things that he would rather not be said, but the Valar say must be said. Also, I will be leaving the Woodland realm just before the battle. I refuse to be banished a second time for calling your father on his cowardice. As it is there are things that I must tell him that are not going to go over well, and you should brace yourself for them. Most of those things involve you and he's likely to throw a temper tantrum about it all."

Legolas groaned. It was never good when his father was in a temper, and getting bad news, (or what Thrandruil thought was bad news), about his baby boy was even worse. "Tauriel," he protested. He couldn't deny that Tauriel had that protection, it was the only way that the Twice-Born could do the job that the Valar had chosen them for after all, but he really hated it when his father threw a tantrum. It usually ended up with him being confined to his rooms for seasons, if not years.

Tauriel shoved Legolas gently into an alcove. "Listen to me, and listen well. Your father's bigotry is going to cost you everything. He will do everything he can to deny you your Heart's Ease because of his race. You will sail to the West within the next century and a half because of it and I will seek out my own death once you are gone, for my Heart's Ease will die this year if I cannot save him," Tauriel said harshly. "Do not let his bigotry drive you, Legolas, because if you do, you will forever be denied your Heart's Ease."

Legolas looked stunned. "He? Never mind, what race is he that would drive father to try to deny him to me?" That his Heart's Ease would be a male did not bother him all that much. It wasn't as though he had to provide his father with a grandchild for the throne after all. In fact, that was one thing that he really would rather not do as he wasn't the best with children in the first place, and the having the responsibility of raising one of his own was rather daunting.

Tauriel gave him a look. "Can you not guess? What race would drive him to deny you your Heart?" Tauriel waited while Legolas thought it through. It didn't take long for him to look at her in shock. "Yes, he is a dwarf. He is Gimli, son of Gloin, called Silvertongue, Lord of the Glittering Caves, one of the Fellowship of the Ring, one of the Three Walkers, and to the surprise of all, Lockbearer, and cousin to my own Kili." Tauriel had told him about Kili, but she hadn't mentioned his race.

"I would ask if you are certain, but you would not joke about this of all things." Legolas then looked confused. "His titles make no sense, save perhaps Lord of the Glittering Caves, although I have not heard of that settlement of Dwarrow," he said. Perhaps it was new? News did not travel easily to the Woodland realm after all. His father had seen to that with his constantly turning his back on the rest of Middle Earth.

"Of course I would not joke about this. The grief that we suffered through was far too much for either of us to bear. The reason that the titles do not make sense is because he has not yet earned them," Tauriel pointed out. "He's not even of age now, although he will be in another decade. He and you took part in the Fellowship of the Ring, a quest to take the One Ring to Mordor in order to destroy it. The Fellowship was broken during the quest, and he and you and a certain Man who I will not name ran for three days across Rohan to rescue members of the Fellowship that had been captured. Those two things alone would have made his name as immortal as that of Durin himself, but it is the earning of the last title that surprised all of Middle Earth." 

Legolas looked aggrieved. "Lockbearer? That makes less sense than all the others."

Tauriel leaned in close and breathed in his ear. "She gave him three." 

Legolas' jaw dropped. "Three? SHE? Not?"

Tauriel nodded. "Think on that when you think of Dwarrow and what your father would and did say about it. Can you deny that he would do his best to separate the two of you even knowing that he had HER favor, to the point of giving him three strands of her hair?"

Legolas looked haunted. "No, I cannot." 

"Come, let's go tell your father that about Smaug and that I will be leaving. It's best, I think, to tell him a little bit at a time so he can get his tantrums out. Too much at once and he will burst a blood vessel in his head," Tauriel said, and grabbed Legolas' elbow to drag him down to his father's chambers. "Perhaps we should tell him to recall your brothers?"

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Kili presented Orcrist and Sting to Lord Elrond in his uncle's place. He really would rather have been sitting at a lower table along with the rest of the Company, but as Thorin and Bilbo were still in the Healing Halls, he and Fili were sitting in their places. Of course, as Thorin's ambassador he'd have probably ended up here anyway, but he chose not to think about that. "We found them in a troll hoard in the Trollshaws, Lord Elrond. My uncle bids me to tell you that they have more goblins to kill, and that he and his One, Bilbo Baggins, will join us as soon as Bilbo is released from the Healing Halls."

"I would never attempt to separate a Dwarrow from his One, especially when that One is injured," Elrond said, as he accepted the sword and dagger, having already examined Glamdring. "The dagger, I know nothing of its history, but this is Orcrist, the Goblin-Cleaver. I agree, it has more work to do, but then that is to be expected when it returns to us in the hands of a Twice-Born." Elrond raised his eyebrow at Kili. "What brings four Twice-Born to my halls?" He looked down at the lower table that held the rest of the Company. "And a Dwarrowdam that shows her gender openly to Elves?"

Kili and Fili looked at each other. "Twice-Born?" Kili asked Fili.

"I think he means us," Fili said. "I guess this has happened before or something."

Kili nodded and turned back to Elrond. "Mahal has sent us to reclaim Erebor. I am to kill Smaug, and then we are to prevent Azog the Defiler from claiming Erebor for the Enemy. Erebor is to be the guardian of the North once more, and we are to make alliances with the other free peoples of Middle Earth. To show that we are serious about the alliances, Mahal has made us Ones who are not Dwarrow. You have seen my uncle and his Hobbit One, my brother's One is the eldest daughter of the Man who will be King of Dale, and my One is the Captain of the guard of Mirkwood, the Lady Tauriel." Kili reached inside his tunic and pulled out a small leather bag. "Mahal has given us marriage beads to show that this is his will." He poured his beads out onto his hand and showed Elrond, who looked amazed. 

Looking for permission, Elrond picked up one of the beads to examine it. "I have seen a few of the works of Aule; these are from his hand." His eyes carefully picked out the moon and stars, with a vine realistic enough that it looked like it could sprout new leaves at any moment curling on the top and bottom. "A finer set of beads an Elf could not ask for." He returned the bead to Kili. "I know of Tauriel. She is a Silvan Elf, and a daughter of the Men of Dale, these matches make sense, but why a Hobbit?"

"The Green Lady sends half of her people to Erebor to heal the lands of the poison that Smaug and what the remains of the Enemy have sunk into the lands around Erebor and the Mirkwood," Kili explained. "The first caravan is some time behind us, and the second of this year is a week behind them. Two thousand Hobbits will be traveling to Erebor this year with Dwarrow guards, and more will travel each year until 25,000 of them will have made the journey. Uncle has declared that they will have lands for a settlement of their own at Erebor's feet."

Elrond looked grim. "You speak of the Enemy." He ignored the news of the caravans for the moment. There would be time to deal with that later.

Kili nodded. "What is left of Sauron resides in Dol Guldur. Bilbo says that the White Council will be needed to drive him out and back to Mordor so that the Hobbits can begin to heal Mirkwood," He nodded at Gandalf and Radagast. "They will be helping with that."

Elrond sat back. "What will you need of us?" he asked, not telling Kili that he was one of the White Council.

"Our numbers were two thousand Elves from Mirkwood, five hundred Dwarrow from the Iron Hills, and three hundred Men from Lake Town against nearly thirty thousand Orcs, Wargs, goblins, and whatever else the darkness could throw at us," Kili said. "Although we won, it was with losses that were far too great. There were those who died that Mahal had plans for so he sent us back to fix that. We need whatever warriors that you can send to the battle, and healers so that all who survive the battle will hopefully survive their wounds. We would not ask for ourselves, as Erebor was reclaimed last time, but Mahal has commanded that we do all that we can ensure that things go better this time."

"Thirty thousand against less than three thousand?" the blond Elf that sat next to Elrond asked. "That sounds like fun!"

"Glorfindel," Elrond said with a sigh.

"What? I'm getting bored. It feels like forever since I've had a good battle!" Glorfindel said with a grin. "And you know perfectly well that your sons will never let you hear the end of it if they don't get to go."

Elrond sighed again. Kili was cautiously optimistic that they were going to get a lot more Elves than just Thrandruil's lot.

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"I'm fine, Thorin," Bilbo insisted. Thorin was helping him to the set of rooms that the Company had been given. "You don't need to,"

"Yes, I do," Thorin interrupted. "You are hurt, Amralime. A sword cut is nothing to treat lightly when it cuts as deep as this one did."

"It wasn't that deep!" Bilbo protested. "It's all sewn up and I've got a pair of crutches. Once I get to my bed, I'll take that tea for pain and go to sleep. That's the best way for it to heal," he reassured his dwarf. "You need to check on the lads and the Company. There's no telling what trouble they're getting into! Bad as a set of twins that lot!"

"Fili has them well in hand," Thorin told him. "Even if he was inclined to make mischief, he would not undermine his brother's efforts. Kili needs Lord Elrond's goodwill, and Fili knows it."

Bilbo just shook his head. "You're right, although I still think that it's a lot to be putting on his shoulders. He may be grown, but he's still young yet. You should be down there with the others. I can rest my leg quite well in the library tomorrow while I look things up with Ori and Balin, and that will give it time to heal. We still don't know how to cleanse the gold, but if I remember correctly, there is something about it in there."

Thorin paused. "You looked it up?" he asked, touched that Bilbo would have thought of such a thing.

Bilbo looked at him sadly. "You were gone, and so were the boys. I sent the information to Balin. The last thing I wanted was for more of your people to fall under the curse of dragon's gold. I just can't remember what it was." He paused for a moment, his face becoming dark in anger. "What I do remember was that it was so simple that I threw the book across the room."

"Then remember also that Mahal has promised us that we will not be touched by the gold-sickness again," Thorin prompted him. "If the cure is simple, then it will be that much easier for us to disburse the hoard in the Spring when the trading routes open up again. We will be able to give Bard Dale's treasury so that the Men will be able to rebuild Dale with no problems caused by lack of funds, and we will be able to give Legolas the Elvish stuff as well." 

For Thorin was not about to let Bilbo give away his part of the treasure again. His One would get what he had earned by going on this quest a second time. Thorin was actually relieved that Bilbo had gone so far as to look up a way to counter the dragon's curse. Even if Bilbo wasn't affected by the curse, the thought of giving him something so cursed felt like dangling him over the battlements again. At least the Arkenstone was going with Bilbo's ring, inside the box where it would hurt no one.

Gandalf hadn't been able to tell him of any way to cleanse the gold no matter how he had begged. He remembered all too well what being under the curse had felt like. He wouldn't wish that on even Thrandruil. Well, perhaps Thrandruil, as long as his sons took over that realm and left the Elf in his treasury to waste away to nothing while Thorin's kingdom thrived. It was a good image, too bad it would never happen. Perhaps he wouldn't survive the battle? That would be nice, Thorin daydreamed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Diggy Diggy Hole by Yogscast
> 
> For those of you who don't know this song - beware! It is an earworm. People either love it or hate it. If you don't know the song, and are willing to risk it, the best video that I've seen is by Austin K on Youtube. He did a great job of matching scenes from the Hobbit movies to the lyrics.
> 
> Bifur as a head injured dwarf, often has flashbacks along with the pain from the axe still being stuck in his head. When he's in the middle of such, this song reminds him that he is home, he is safe, and that he is with his family. Plus, I can totally see Bofur singing this one.

Song by Yogscast

May 1

Ori found the library quite easily the next morning. Internally he smirked as he readied himself to run his best con on the Elves. Timidly he entered the library, looking around for the librarian. "May I help you, Master Dwarf?" came from a stern looking Elf. He had the dark hair that most of the Elves in Rivendell had, and wore robes of the same dusty brown that Dwarrow scribes wore when working in a library.

Ori jumped a little, pretending to have been startled. "Yes, that is, if it's permitted, would it be alright if I did some research? I'm the scribe for our Company, and I'm looking for anything you might have on cleansing gold and other treasure once it's been part of a dragon's hoard? Dragon-sickness is a terrible thing. We don't want it spreading," he said as he wrung his hands. 

"You plan on attempting to steal from a dragon?" the Elf looked even more disapproving.

"Oh no!" Ori spoke quickly. "Mahal has commanded that my prince kill the dragon Smaug, so that we may reclaim our homeland. He even gave Prince Kili arrows that will do the job, but there is still the matter of the hoard to deal with." Ori wrung his hands again and looked up at the Elf tearfully. "It's said that the larger the hoard, the worse the spread of dragon-sickness becomes, even if the hoard is spent on honest needs of a kingdom in order to get rid of it."

"That is true," the Elf admitted. "Here, this should help you in your search." He directed Ori to a large bookcase. "This holds all we have on dragons and their hoards. If you need help with a translation, I am Rimon, scribe and librarian." 

"Ori, son of Vori, journeyman scribe and chronicler of Thorin's Company, at your service. I thank you for your help. My master, Balin, son of Fundin, will be helping me as his duties allow, as will Master Baggins. Is there a place where he can research without aggravating his injury? He's the Hobbit who took a slice from an Orc sword to the leg."

Rimon nodded. "I have just the place. Mistress Belladonna Took often visited our library when she traveled with Mithrander. I am certain that her favorite spot will serve Master Baggins well."

"It should do very well indeed, as Mistress Belladonna was Master Baggins' mother!" Ori said cheerfully. "I'm certain that he will enjoy spending time where his mother once did."

Rimon returned Ori's smile. "Any child of Belladonna's is more than welcome here. I'm certain that she passed on her love of books to her child, as well as making certain that he knew how to treat them properly."

Ori traded sympathetic looks with the librarian. "That I can reassure you on, at least. Only the three of us will be using your library. The rest of our Company has other things that they will be doing."

"Then I wish you luck with your research, Master Ori," Rimon said, and left the young dwarf to his studies - exactly how Ori wanted it.

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Thorin, Bilbo, Kili and Fili, and Balin met with Lord Elrond in his private office to discuss the particulars of the quest that brought four Twice-Born to Rivendell. Once Elrond had reassured himself that Bilbo had been properly taken care of by his healers, and had given the Hobbit his condolences on the loss of his mother, he opened the discussion with declaring that, "I have not the army that I had in Ages past. More of my people are moving on to Valinor each year, and I suspect that all that are left will travel within the next century."

"Eighty one years, to be precise," Biblo said. "But HE will fall before you go."

Elrond nodded with a sigh of relief. "And what of Gondor?"

Bilbo smiled mischievously. "I was told it was a splendid ceremony, coronation and wedding in one." And he refused to say anything more about the matter.

Only slightly frustrated, Elrond continued, "I have but 500 warriors left to guard my borders, but I have nearly 800 healers. I will send all but 100 of each. Do not ask my healers to fight, as to take a life is to diminish their ability to heal."

"I agree that their ability to heal takes far greater precedence. If even a single person can be saved from the jaws of death that would otherwise have perished, then we will have done well indeed," Thorin said. "I know that you worry for the madness that over took my grandfather and father. Three things were the cause - the first, my grandfather still wore one of the Seven. While that alone could not corrupt him the way that the Nine did the kings of Men, it was the first cause of his madness and most of the reason for my father's as the ring was given to him before he fell. The second reason for the madness was the Arkenstone, which Mahal has told me is not a stone at all, but one of the lost Silmarils. You would know far better than I what sort of possession and madness those fabled jewels bring to mortal minds."

"Immortal as well," Elrond said, refusing Thorin's attempt at diplomacy.

Thorin nodded. "The last reason was far easier to understand. Already weakened by the ring and the Silmaril, the loss of our home and many of our people to dragonfire and war was too much for my father's mind to bear. Thus fell our last two kings, Lord Elrond. As for what I and my Company experienced in the life that we four alone remember, Mahal has told me that Smaug's curse on the gold and another ring was the cause. He has promised that none of my Company, nor I myself, will be touched by the dragon-sickness when we return to Erebor."

Everyone heard the qualifier in Thorin's voice - only the Company would be so protected. Balin spoke up. "My journeyman, Ori, son of Vori, is researching how to cleanse the treasure hoard so that it will not ensnare anyone else. Mahal has given Master Baggins a box to contain both the ring in question and the Arkenstone. We are doing our best to protect everyone who will enter the mountain."

"That is also the reason that my people will be joining us there," Bilbo said. "The effects of the dragon's curse have seeped into the land, thus the reason that nothing grows in the desolation, and the reason that those who are more susceptible to the curse are overcome with greed even outside of the desolation itself. We Hobbits will be able to heal the land, as we were always meant to do and it will no longer affect those who live in the area." He looked at Elrond seriously. "And yes, the ring in question is the ring you don't want it to be. I will be dealing with that later, along with the Arkenstone. Returning it to Arda in the same manner as it was given before, if you understand my meaning."

"When you are ready to take that trip, I will accompany you," Elrond swore. "I have always regretted that I did not take such action as was required when I had the chance."

"I appreciate having the guidance of one who has already been there," Bilbo said.

"Now, I believe that we come to the happier concern of young Kili and his One," Elrond said with a smile. 

Kili blushed. "I wish to court her properly," he explained. "I wish to honor her in all things, and have none say that our marriage was improper in any respect."

Elrond looked pleased with Kili's answer. "If Tauriel was a Sindar Elf, there would be more customs that you would have to fulfill, but the rites if the Silvan Elves are very simple indeed. A single ring, preferably silver or mithril, is exchanged at a wedding feast before the guests, and should the families of the couple agree with the marriage, the couple is each given a pendant by the other's family. That, and of course the wedding night, is all that is required for a formal wedding. An informal wedding, such as during times of strife or among those who have no family, the wedding night is the only requirement."

Thorin was suddenly struck by a thought and turned to Kili. "You had better not have married the poor girl without knowing about it!" he barked. Fili fell off his chair laughing as he realized what Thorin and Elrond had been saying. Balin shook his head in despair and Bilbo grinned at the thought. 

Kili, on the other hand, went white as a wraith. "NO, Uncle!" he protested above his brother's laughter. "Honestly, I was locked up in the dungeons and then I was too sick, and we were never left alone long enough for that!" He paused and thought a moment. "Although if we were, I would have braided her hair before that anyway. I would not have dishonored her!"

Bilbo was the only one who looked confused at that qualifier and Thorin explained. "Dwarrow battle weddings are simple things as well, Bilbo. All that is required is for a marriage braid to braided into each other's hair. It was often done by those couples who were going into battle together, so that if one should fall, the other would be recognized by all as the spouse of the fallen. At a formal wedding a feast is prepared for all those who would be affected by the marriage and the braiding is done at the height of the feast. The betrothal braids and beads are removed at that time and the marriage braid and beads are put in."

The other dwarrow nodded and then Kili asked Lord Elrond, "Do any of your people have starlight gems that they would be willing to sell to me? I was planning on having a circlet made for her with them as a Princess of our people, but I would want to have at least one put in her ring."

Thorin nodded, and grabbing one of Balin's quills and some parchment, began sketching out a set of jewelry; the ring, the pendant, and the tiara that Kili wanted to crown his lady with. "I know not what price your people would set upon such gems, Lord Elrond, but I will pay the price and ask for time in your forge so that Kili will have his proposal ready."

"Would not Kili be required to make such jewelry by your people's customs?" Elrond asked curiously.

"Yes, but he can barely forge iron into steel," Thorin said bluntly. "He does well enough to pray to Mahal when needed, but forging is not among his talents. It happens from time to time, and always the skills that dwarf is given in other crafting far exceeds what others might find in the forge. He is a needleworker. Put a set of needles in his hands, any sort of needles, and you would think that what he crafted came from the hands of the Valar themselves they are so much more than mere goods," Thorin bragged. "I have no doubt that he will not allow his lady to be clad in anything other than what he crafts for her himself, but this I can do for him, and as his uncle I will."

"Uncle is right," Fili said, still grinning even as Kili blushed with the praise. "If I was more skilled, I would be the one to forge the jewelry for Kili as his brother, but I'm not a master yet." Unspoken was the truth that no Dwarrow would ever want anything but the best of anything possible for their One.

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Holly grunted as Rukuc turned around and stepped right into her. Fortunately he wasn't going fast, as he was searching for herbs, so she didn't end up on the ground. "You need to pay more attention to what's going on around you, Master Healer," she said. She'd been following him for nearly three hours now, killing what game he scared up. He was better than one of those beaters that the nobles of Men were said to use while hunting. She'd gotten quite the haul to take back to the caravan.

"Where did you come from?" he asked, surprised.

She sighed and let her conker fly. Rukuc ducked as it missed his head by an inch. Holly would have snorted at that if she hadn't been trying to be more polite with the dwarf. The idea that she would miss what she aimed at was insulting. Rukuc turned to see where the stone on a string had gone and his mouth fell open to see a small warg, the stone deeply embedded into its skull. He turned back around in time to see Holly step around him and go over to the warg. Once there she calmly began skinning it. "I've been behind you for nearly three hours, Master Healer. I've found quite a lot of game thanks to you and your stomping around. Although I have a question for you about the herbs you've been gathering. Why did you not pick any kingsfoil? The Hobbit healers all swear by it for farm injuries, someone getting cut by a scythe for instance."

"I've never seen it used," Rukuc said faintly. 

"Well, you might want to talk to our healers about it. Now, we'd best be getting back to the caravan. It's almost supper time," Holly said, and gathered up the warg fur before heading back. She left the meat as she had been taught that eating the meat of a predator would give people the flux and that was the last thing anyone in the caravan needed. Rukuc was left staring after her, before he came to his senses and made his way back as well.

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Bofur half carried Bifur into the kitchens of the Last Lonely House humming a song that likely would have gotten a weapon swiped at him from anyone else, if they weren't drunk Dwarrow miners that is. Bombur's head popped up the moment he heard the song, and he swiftly poured a mug full of hot water and mixed in a double teaspoon of healing herbs and honey. The moment it was steeped enough to be useful he hurried over to where Bofur had propped Bifur onto a stool and pressed the mug into the older dwarf's hands. "How bad?" he whispered.

Bofur shook his head and hummed a little louder, still holding Bifur up on his stool. The older dwarf was nodding along and making motions along with the humming that would be considered wild if they hadn't been as feeble as they were. Bombur sighed and went over to where the head cook was staring at the dwarrow in bewilderment. "Bifur suffered from a head injury during Azanulbizar as you can see," he explained. "The healers left the axe head itself still buried in his skull, as they feared to remove it lest it take his life. It still gives him trouble, and when the pain is too great the song is the only thing that calms him. I apologize for our family subjecting you and your people to it."

"That is quite alright, Master Bombur," the Elf said with a smile. "We here at Rivendell are well versed in the recovery of those injured in battle. Let the song be sung and let it soothe Master Bifur. I am certain that no matter how bad the ballad, it will be worth it as such a warrior deserves all the respite that we can offer."

Bombur bowed, but said, "Do not say that I did not warn you, for though the song is a simple enough one, it will get in your head and never leave." 

"Tisn't the first time, nor will it be the last, Master Bombur!" one of the lesser cooks proclaimed. "Long have we made meals for the invalid and wounded, and sung such songs of our own to soothe and entertain them. You may not realize it, but almost everyone still living in Rivendell is attached to the healing halls in one manner or another." Elven heads nodded all over the kitchens. 

Bofur shrugged as Bombur looked at him and begun singing the miner's song, one that usually only the miners, and only those drunk enough to forget the song the next morning, would sing.

Brothers of the mine rejoice!  
Swing, swing, swing with me  
Raise your pick and raise your voice!  
Sing, sing, sing with me

Down and down into the deep,  
Who knows what we'll find beneath?  
Diamonds, rubies, gold and more  
Hidden in the mountains store.

Born underground, suckled from a teat of stone,  
Raised in the dark, the safety of our mountain home.  
Skin made of iron, steel in our bones  
To dig and dig makes us free  
Come on brothers sing with me!

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole  
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

The sunlight will not reach this low  
Deep deep in the mine  
Never seen the blue moon glow  
Dwarves won't fly so high!

Fill a glass and down some mead  
Stuff your bellies at the feast!  
Stumble home and fall asleep  
Dreaming in our mountain keep!

Born underground, grown inside a rocky womb  
The earth is our cradle, the mountain shall become our tomb  
Face us on the battlefield, you will meet your doom  
We do not fear what lies beneath, we can never dig too deep.

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole  
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole  
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

Born underground, suckled from a teat of stone  
Raised in the dark, the safety of our mountain home  
Skin made of iron, steel in our bones  
To dig and dig makes us free  
Come on brothers sing with me!

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole  
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole  
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole  
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

"Not our finest," Bombur admitted, as he punched down a batch of dough for bread. "Usually miners sing that one when they're drunk."

"Nor still the worst I've heard in Rivendell," the head cook said firmly as he rolled out pastry dough. "No matter what they tell you, a drunken Elven warrior is much worse!"


	15. Chapter 15

May 7th

Dori had found the ladies of the Last Homely House East of the Sea to be a very friendly lot. In her opinion, most females were far more sensible than males in any case, and few held on to grudges that were more than a few centuries old. It certainly helped when she was attempting to make friends with the elleths of Rivendell. They had been in Rivendell for a week when she dragged Kili into one of the solars where the elleths gathered to work on their crafts or just to have female company.

"Why in Arda do you bring Prince Kili with you today, Dori? Is he a hidden Dwarrowdam?" one of the Elven maidens laughed. It was a nice laugh, one that invited those around her to join in rather than one that made fun of the one being laughed at. She was Lyndis, Dori's favorite among the, young for them, elleths.

Dori smiled. "Kili is my apprentice, and I need your help ladies to give him a lesson on tailoring for those of your height. I am certain that you can all give him lessons on what constitutes a good wardrobe for an Elven Lady, such as yourselves, both for formal wear and for everyday, where as I would be hopelessly lost."

"You would not," Sana, another elleth, said with a smile. "The dress you made for me was divine! But I understand that it is not so much how to make the clothes, but our opinions on them that you wish him to learn."

Dori nodded. "True, very true," she said. 

"It's always a bit of a gamble, making clothes for another race. You not only have to take into consideration the fact that the height and shape of the customer is different than that of your own race, but also that the styles are vastly different, not only between the races, but even between different realms of the same race!" she instructed Kili. "For we Dwarrow the styles are much the same from mountain to mountain, but just look at the differences between Hobbits and Dwarrow. The Hobbits do not wear anything below their knees! For anyone else such would be extremely immodest or only for the very young, while they believe that to do so is extremely improper. The Daughters of Men in Gondor cannot show their hair to anyone other than a spouse, so their headdresses are of great importance to them, while no Dwarrowdam would ever cover their most important feature."

Kili nodded. "But the women of Rohan wear skirts that are divided so that they may ride with their men, there is rarely any embroidery on their clothing, and they too do not cover their hair."

Dori nodded with a smile. "I am glad that you paid attention while you were in Rohan with your brother. Now, if one of you ladies would pick out some fabric and an idea of what you would like to have made from it, we'll get on with the lesson."

"So are you to be a tailor when your duties permit, Prince Kili?" Lyndis asked.

"No," Kili said with a shake of his head. "I am no tailor. I am a needleworker. I have mastered knitting, crochet, and macreme and I have begun mastering embroidery, quilting and sewing clothing. I made all of my family's clothing." He paused for a moment, grief flitting over his face. "It will take a lifetime and more to master my craft and I will study under many masters as no needleworkers survived Smaug's attack." He shook off the grief. "I am fortunate that as a Prince of Erebor my duties as ambassador to the Eldar will allow me many hours to work on my craft, although honestly with as much traveling as I do I tend to stick to small works."

The ladies nodded in understanding. "Are you also the prince who has an elleth for a Heart's Ease?" an elleth named Filegil asked him.

"I am," Kili said with a brilliant smile. "My starlight lady awaits me at the end of our journey. Which is all the more reason for me to ask your opinion on clothes! I have no wish to craft her something that will not suit!"

The ladies nodded and began to look more serious. "Is she a healer or a warrior?" Filegil asked.

"A warrior," Kili explained. "She is the Captain of the guard of the Greenwood, the realm of Thranduil, King of the Wood Elves. She is Silvan herself, although she is a member of the royal house." 

"Leggings," one of the elleths said firmly. As she carried a set of long daggers on her hips, Dori was fairly certain that she was one of the female warriors that still lived here. She stood up and showed off how her skirt was actually a matter of several pieces of fabric shaped like leaves falling from her belt and concealed fabric that clung to her legs. "You want to make certain that she can move in anything you give her. A warrior will be uncomfortable in anything that restricts her movement as she's used to being ready to fight at a moment's notice."

Dori and Kili both looked closely at the 'leggings' as the elleth called them. "Do you mind removing your skirt?" Dori asked politely. "Or better yet, bring me a pair so that I can take a look at them? I've never seen such a garment for females before." 

Kili simply nodded. "When our 'dams dress as dwarrow, they simply wear the same things as dwarrow do. They wear nothing that would set them apart like that." The elleth nodded and soon returned with not only the leggings, but quite a bit of the rest of her wardrobe, and all of them began a long discussion of what she had, why she had it, and when it was best to wear it. Dori hadn't found something new like this in years. She was over the moon in delight.

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Sigrid was annoyed. She and Tauriel had worked hard to get her back to her old level of skill, and it was getting her nowhere. The men either were in awe of her Twice-Born status or they were threatened by the fact that she was a Sheildmaid. The women just considered her too unnatural all the way around and while they gave her respect to her face, they ignored her words and gossiped about her behind her back. She was forced to go through her Da to get anything done.

It was too much like what her life had been after the dragon had destroyed Lake Town. Then it was all, "You're such a good girl to help your Da so." and "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. You're a princess now!" She'd hated every second of it then and it was worse now. Then she had been a child on the cusp of womanhood, just a year away from courting age. Now she was an adult trapped in the body of a child. 

"Tauriel," she begged as the elleth came into her family's house in Lake Town. She would always prefer to call Dale home. "Tell me that my dwarf is coming and that he'll survive the battle this time! I cannot take much more of how I am treated here. It was bad enough before, but it is much worse now."

"It is to be fervently hoped that both our dwarrow will survive this time," Tauriel said, as she hung her bow on a chair and placed her quiver on the table. She needed to make more arrows and she needed to be as far away from Thranduil as Sigrid seemed to need to be away from the people of Lake Town. 

Sigrid stopped. There was something about the way she had said that. "You know who he is, don't you?"

Tauriel paused and then slumped down into her chair. "I wanted for the two of you to discover that yourselves; to see and discover each other on your own terms, rather than that of what both your peoples would force you into," she protested weakly.

Sigrid sighed, and poured two cups of tea, one of which she gave to Tauriel as she sat down at the table. "I thank you for that. It would have been nice, but with the battle bearing down on us, Smaug to be killed, and the rest - well, I'd rather find him quickly so I have as much time with him as possible. Plus, how am I to prepare for my wedding if I don't know who I am to marry? You've already said that you are planning on one of those private weddings you Elves have that needs not much of anything and can be done at any time. What if my soul mate wishes that as well - if they have that? What if they don't? How am I to prepare a home for the two of us if I know nothing about him at all? Is he primarily a warrior, like Dwalin was? is? Does he march with Dain and so will have family and such to bring me back to the Iron Hills to meet? Will we live in Erebor or the Iron Hills? There are so many possibilities!" she fretted.

Tauriel sighed as well. "I suppose that it is too much to ask of you to wait until he gets here, especially since the Dwarrow do have a quick wedding as well." She caught the look that Sigrid was sending her and laughed. "No! Kili and I are not wed, either before or now. It was Legolas who had a battlefield wedding. Actually it was a literal battlefield wedding because he married his husband right on the battlefield after a battle down in Rohan the Dwarrow way and took him to bed as soon as they could have privacy for the Eldar way."

"Legolas," Sigrid said flatly. "The youngest son of the Elven King of the Greenwood realm. The one who always stands on his best royal behavior with us? He's the one who had a hasty wedding?!?!"

Tauriel nodded and they both broke down in giggles. "Alright, I'll tell you. There's a reason we are like sisters, Sigrid, and that is because our Hearts are brothers. It is Fili who is your Heart's Ease, and who I have no doubt is racking his brain to try and figure out how to properly court you. As the crown prince, he's always had to be the serious one of the two of them."

"Fili," Sigrid breathed, and unbidden the memory of the golden prince returned to her, mustache braids and all. "Oh no," she moaned, and put her head down on the table. Of course it was Fili! Crown Prince to her princess; after all Thorin Stonehelm had married a lovely Dwarrowdam and there weren't any other dwarrow princes at the battle. It made sense far too much sense politically, and the Valar were known to take a hand in matching the royal lines. 

Sigrid's head shot up. "But what I am I to make his parents? Thorin was his uncle, not his father, if I remember right. He could still stand in for them as they're halfway across Middle Earth, but still! What can I make that would meet with their approval? I never did get to see any formal Dwarrow weddings. I don't know what is appropriate!" Sigrid fussed, wringing her hands as her princess lessons came back to her. She'd mostly ignored it as much as she could, but courting customs had been drilled into her head for years before anyone took her vow not to marry seriously.

"You would make them a gift?" Tauriel asked.

Sigrid nodded. "Tilda's bridal gift to her Man's family was a guaranteed market for their goods in Dale, an alliance gift. Fili's family will have no need of such a thing. Erebor is already a major trading partner for Dale, and I know that they value their crafts over political gifts." She stopped and struck her head with her hand. "I am an idiot. Of course! We need to get down to the market. The Dorwinion merchants are in the market today. They often have small amounts of goods from the far East. They should have what I need!"

"Then let us go at once!" Tauriel cried, happy to see her sister in heart happy once more.

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Estel was well aware that there were visitors in Rivendell. He did not expect them to be Dwarrow. Further, he had not expected one of them to show up when his older twin brothers were giving him lessons on sword fighting. The dwarf with the bald head and many, many inkings all over his body watched the lesson closely, and honestly made Estel nervous, although he did his best not to show it.

Soon the dwarf was joined by more; one with long dark hair streaked with silver, another with fire red hair with many clasps in his beard, and a young one with blond hair and braids in his mustache. With their arrival the bald dwarf stopped staring and the four of them moved to another sparing circle and began to practice. Estel would have sighed with relief if he'd had breath to do so. Instead he returned his focus to his lesson. It would not do to have a ranger be unable to fight when the rangers were all that kept the land of the Shire safe, and did their best to keep villainy from over taking the vast lands of Eriador, mostly in the old kingdom of Arnor. He was going to be the best ranger ever.

When they finally took a break the bald dwarf said, "You daft buggers, you forgot something!"

The twins looked at each other and asked in unison, perfectly politely, (which for anyone who knew them would know that either their father had taken them to task or that they were about to prank you into submission), "What ever do you mean, Master Dwarf?"

"Tis Dwalin, son of Fundin, and you forgot that the lad isn't going to be fighting giants. He's too short right now to reach you with those techniques, although he'll be a tall one for a Man when he's grown. You have to get down to his level," Dwalin said. "Here lad, let me show you what those two forgot." He grabbed one of the twin's swords. "Quarter speed, lad, same drills as before," he said, and began to go through the same exercise that the twins had been trying to teach.

Estel had a much easier time with the drill facing someone his own height. Master Dwalin was a patient teacher and honestly made more sense than the twins, although that could have been simply because the dwarf was right and he could feel how he was supposed to use his sword better when he wasn't trying to hit someone out of his reach. Dwalin stopped him several times when he tried to reach too far, and worked with him so that he could see where he had made his mistakes. "Thank you, Master Dwalin," Estel said when they had finished the drill. "I am Estel, son of Gilraen." He bowed politely.

"You're a ranger lad, aren't you?" Dwalin asked.

"Yes sir! My father was a ranger and I will be too once I'm old enough and finish my training," Estel said proudly.

The dwarf with the black and silver hair spoke up. "Learn your lessons well, young Estel. You never know when some tiny little thing becomes all important, even if you think it is useless now. Rangers get into the most astonishing predicaments I have ever seen. I am Thorin, son of Thrain."

"Really?" Estel asked, hoping to get a story.

All four dwarrow laughed. "Yes, but if you are hoping for a story, find the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins while we are here," Thorin instructed. "You'll find him in the library. He's the best storyteller it has been my pleasure to know, and he has known far more rangers than I."

Estel looked over at his brothers with pleading eyes, and with a laugh they released him from his lesson. He hurriedly put away his practice sword and would have run to the library, but Thorin and the blond dwarf were waiting for him while Master Dwalin and the dwarf with red hair had gone back to sparing, so he walked as decorously as he could. They were guests after all, and it wouldn't do to leave them behind when they were so obviously waiting for him.

Once they reached the library, Estel saw two more dwarrow, both deep into books that Estel had read before on the matter of dragons. Estel preferred the stories of the times that dragons had been fought. Lord Elrond had told him many times though, that everyone liked different things. Next to the bookcase that held the dragon books a male even smaller than the dwarrow was attempting to pace while on crutches. Estel checked and his feet were bare and covered in curls matching the ones on his head. This was a Hobbit, and as no Hobbit traveled away from the Shire, this must be Bilbo Baggins!

"Bilbo, what are you doing? You promised me that you would be sitting and reading books, not trying to wear a hole through the flagstones!" Thorin said, as he hurried over to the Hobbit.

"SHHHHH!" Bilbo hushed him and waved him away from his path. He then mimed throwing something with his eyes closed shut. "RED!" he shouted, his eyes popping open. "Ori! It's red, and it's in a book, not a scroll!" The two dwarrow carefully, but still hastily, closed the book and scroll they were looking through, returned them to their places, and carefully removed all of the books that were in any way red from the bookcase while Master Baggins made his way back to the table.

"I hope that this is worth it," grumbled Thorin as he helped to carry the stack of books over to the table. Estel helped too, not wanting to get on Master Baggins' bad side. He might not be willing to tell a story if Estel did!

"We need that information, Thorin, and I've been trying to remember which book it was in all week," Bilbo said, reaching for the books. "I needed to be able to see which book it was because the only thing I remember about it was throwing it." Estel could see Rimon looking disappointed. He hoped that Master Baggins didn't do that again because he'd probably be banished from the library for a whole month for something like that!

"Here! This is it!" Bilbo cried, pulling one of the books to him. He opened the book and paged through it. Everyone waited with bated breath until he stopped. Bilbo put his finger on a passage and began to read. "To cleanse the treasure of a dragon so that it will not turn any of the free peoples into dragons themselves, first wash the treasure in salt water and then pass it through a clean flame until the treasure is dry. Both salt and fire purify, but a dragon's greed is so great that both measures must be taken in order to protect those who come in contact with the treasure." Bilbo looked up at Thorin as did all of the dwarrow. "I think that we need to talk to Bofur and Bifur," he said. "That is a lot of gold and treasure to wash."


	16. Chapter 16

June 20

Sigrid did the one thing that no one in Lake Town suspected that she would do. With the extra money from not having to pay fines and fees to the former Master, she very publicly purchased two dower chests; one obviously for her little sister, Tilda, (as the child was the one to pick out the chest), and one for herself. The designs she had carved on Tilda's chest were traditional ones for hope of future prosperity, something that went over well with the local women. The chest she chose for herself however, she had carved in patterns that hadn't been seen since Girion's day. On the top of the chest were carved the seven stars of Durin above a thrush, the symbol of the ruling house of Dale. Strong geometric patterns wove their way around the chest, separating panels that held scenes of the wedding of Aule the Smith and Yavanna the Green Lady. 

Sigrid knew very well that the gossips of Lake Town were in full volume at this seemingly abrupt change from Shieldmaid to marriageable maid and what the carvings meant. They probably thought that she had given up the path of a Shieldmaid as they'd been trying to shame her into. She wouldn't though, even when she knew that would shock them even more. "I thought you didn't get married," Bain protested as he followed the cart delivering the chests back to their house. 

Sigrid knew that everyone's eyes, (and ears), were on them as they walked by. "I didn't get married, but that was because my dwarf died in the battle. This time I'm going to fight at his side. I'll keep that orc from killing him and then I'm moving into the mountain with him once we're married. We'll probably have a battlefield wedding, so that'll be easier on Da. It'll be your turn to help Da when I'm gone to the mountain. Tilda, we'll work on our dower chests together."

"Just like Halla?" Tilda asked excitedly. She'd been told months earlier, before Sigrid had awoken as a Twice-Born, that they couldn't afford to start her chest when Tilda's best friend had.

"Yes, just like Halla," Sigrid promised. "And we'll put lots of pretty things in it too." Excited the younger girl skipped ahead of them.

"How are you going to do that if you're living in the mountain?" Bain wanted to know.

Sigrid made a rude noise. "As if that will stop me," she scoffed. "Da will still need help with the books and such." Of course she meant the books of Dale, but she hadn't told her father yet about that. He'd put up such a fuss about not wanting to become the king of Dale the last time, but it had happened anyway. Even if he didn't kill the dragon this time, he was still Girion's heir. He'd be king before he knew it.

Once at the house, Sigrid directed the laborers to place Tilda's chest at the foot of their bed, and hers next to the fireplace. "Thank you," she said as they left. 

"What are we going to put in them first?" Tilda wanted to know, practically bouncing.

"The first thing I'm going to work on is my bridal gift while you start making quilt squares," Sigrid explained. "Bain, you might as well go down to the training yard. There's nothing going on here but sewing until supper." She stifled a grin as Bain speedily made his exit, obviously not wanting to be made into a dressmaker's dummy. Tilda watched as Sigrid pulled out the silks and the heavy velvet in Durin blue that she had purchased from the Dorwinion Merchants. 

"What are you going to make?" Tilda wanted to know, carefully touching a single finger to the fabric. She knew how much her sister had spent on it and didn't want to get it dirty.

"I'm going to make robes," Sigrid said. "Robes fit for a king," she muttered under her breath.

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"Wonderful," Bilbo said, as he watched from one of the many balconies in Rivendell as the first caravan arrived in Rivendell. He turned to Gandalf who was watching with him. "When does the White Council get here?"

"Most are already here," Gandalf said, leaning on his staff. "We merely wait for Saruman, and he should be here in three days."

"That should be just enough time to plan what to do with him," Bilbo said. "That is, if you don't mind me putting my hoe in it? It's just that I know what Thorin gave you. I've been thinking that he won't go without a fight, and really with needing to deal with Sauron, we really don't have any magic to waste on getting Saruman on his way to Valinor."

Gandalf took a deep breath, and let it out as he sagged against his staff. "You are too right, I fear. If Saruman decides to fight, as he probably will, Radagast and I will need all of the help we can get. Come Bilbo, let us gather those who will be at the meeting. I have no doubt we will have a great deal of planning to do."

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Rukuc had finally managed to have a few decent conversations with his One without tasting any boot leather. He considered that progress, and was now ready to try and begin courting his One. With any luck he wouldn't be the next one to have her stone, (he'd heard some of the Hobbits refer to it as a conker), buried in his skull. He'd consulted Dwek, as the other dwarf had managed to begin courting her sister Ivy he'd obviously done something right, and he'd been told that Hobbits court with many comforts, food, and flowers ending with the suitor building a new home for the one he was courting. 

The trouble was that he'd seen several dwarrow give flowers to Hobbit lasses, only to have them laugh. Rukuc knew he was on thin enough rock with his One as it was. The last thing he wanted was to give a bunch of the wrong flowers. Honestly he knew enough to tell one flower from another, but figuring out which flower was the right kind of flower was something that he was going to have to have help with. Elves were supposed to know a lot about Yavanna's domain. Surely they knew what flowers wouldn't get him laughed at or worse. On the other hand, he'd seen the pots that she had pulled out when it was her turn to cook lunch for her family. They weren't even iron, but some sort of pottery. That would not do, and here in Rivendell there was sure to be a forge around here somewhere. He might not be a master of smithing, but he knew enough to make a good set of iron cookware.

Yes, Rukuc decided, a full set of cookware was a good first courting gift for his One. Now all he had to do was to get one of the Elves to let him into the forge, and sell him some iron ingots. He had his own forge tools, but he'd been more focused on his healing than his forging when he'd packed for this journey. He hadn't expected to find his One, not that a dwarf ever did since finding your One was a gift from Mahal. 

The caravan was settled into one end of the valley of Rivendell, and many of the Elves who lived here were walking among the Dwarrow and Hobbits. Rukuc hailed one and asked if it was possible for him to get time in a forge along with some iron. The Elf shook his head in exasperation. "If you do not mind a temporary forge, Master Dwarf. It seems that many of your fellows also wish to have forge time. I cannot see why so many of you would want access to a forge now. None of your tools or wagons need tending."

Rukuc snorted. "It's not for tending, Master Elf, but for praying. Our prayers to our maker are done in a forge as is appropriate. He is the Smith after all. We are not ignorant of the dangers we face on this quest. Any grace our father can lend us is something we must ask for. He does not coddle us like little children. He wants us to stand on our own feet and forge our own lives, but he is not one who will abandon us in our times of need either," he lectured. He did not mention the fact that many prayers would probably end up as courting gifts as he was planning on. There was no need to tell an Elf that the prayers hammered into a gift were often personal, and in the case of a courting gift, especially a first one, were often of a 'please let her accept this' nature.

The Elf nodded in understanding. "In that case, I will see to it that as many temporary forges as possible will be set up so that your people may make their prayers. I had never considered what the Smith would ask for in the nature of prayers, but to deny any of the free peoples of Middle Earth their ability to pray is anathema. I will also see what stocks of metal we have are made available to you."

"We do not ask for charity. We will pay for what we need - but I thank you for your efforts," Rukuc said, struggling to remain polite. "It will make things easier."

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June 24

The White Council - Saruman, the Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and Gandalf sat around the meeting table discussing the quest for Erebor and the darkness of the Mirkwood. Saruman was more dismissive than ever, cementing Gandalf's worries that he had indeed turned from the light. Dismissing Radagast as having eaten the wrong mushrooms was far beyond anything that Gandalf could accept. Radagast was a bit off, that much was true, but to have him dismissed so completely out of hand with the flimsy excuse that he'd eaten too many mushrooms was not acceptable, especially as he was sounding a warning about how great the darkness had grown in his domain of the Greenwood. 

"Oi!" came from somewhere close by. "Nothing wrong with mushrooms!" And in the next instant the council room was crawling with Hobbit tweens. 

"No need to be so nasty!" came from one lass.

"Best not to frown like that, my mum says your face'll freeze!" came from another. Random comments from bouncing and scurrying Hobbits came from all over. One crawled up on the table and began to dance, singing about the Man in the Moon. Two more joined in and several crawled under the table. The solemn and important meeting of the White Council descended into chaos with Saruman and Elrond attempting to control what looked to be nearly a hundred tweens while Gandalf and Galadriel laughed at their antics.

More than once a Hobbit ducked right under the legs of the two Big Folk, and it seemed that this was to become a new game of theirs. On it went until Saruman looked to be about to explode. At that moment the tweens converged and knocked him over. Before he could open his mouth to object, much less cast any magic, three of the tweens, who had hidden until now, locked the collar and shackles that Thorin had given Gandalf from Mahal onto Saruman's wrists and neck. Instantly the Hobbits disappeared. 

"Waht?" Elrond spluttered, spinning around trying to find the small hoard that had just vanished. 

Galadriel simply laughed harder while Gandalf brought himself under control. "I apologize, Lord Elrond. It seems as though Bilbo decided that this was the easiest way to get the chains on him," Gandalf said. "We had no time for a battle, especially as there are Hobbits in the valley."

"They seem to have defended themselves easily enough," Elrond said, a bit miffed that his plan for shackling the White Wizard had been ignored by Bilbo in favor of his own.

"Only because no one was expecting them. They used the surprise of their appearance to keep us all off balance until their job could be done," Galadriel pointed out as her laughter fell away. "You and I were too caught up in trying to see if Saruman had truly turned from the light. If we had waited for that to be discovered in truth, the Hobbits would only have been in greater danger than they could have handled."

"And they are young," Gandalf pointed out. "Very young indeed, less than twenty five years if I don't miss my guess. Those were the youngest mischief makers of the caravan. It was no wonder that they began before they should have. I have known many Hobbits of that sort over the centuries. We're lucky to come away with no damage done, even though they mean no harm. This was actually the best use of that talent for chaos that I have ever seen."

All three of them were ignoring Saruman's attempts to speak, then yell. The collar around his neck prevented any sound from escaping, even as it allowed him to breathe normally. With the chains on him, he was nothing more than the old man he appeared to be. "When does the next group of your people travel to the Grey Havens?" Galadriel asked.

Elrond sighed. What was done, was done, and Saruman's dismissal of Radagast when there were four Twice-Born telling the same sorts of tales as Radagast was warning of, well it was obvious that Mahal had the right of it and Saruman needed to be returned to Valinor. "They leave in the morning, my Lady. Two of my warriors will take him while others guard the rest of the group. As they too are traveling to Valinor, they will bring him all the way to those bright shores."

"One last service to Middle Earth, I commend them," Galadriel said. "I too long for those shores, but we too have a duty to attend."

Elrond nodded, and summoned the guards he'd spoken of. They hauled Saruman to his feet and took him out of the council room. As they did so, Radagast popped his head in. "Everything taken care of?" he asked.

"All is well, Radagast, but it is as Bilbo told us. Saruman has turned to the dark," Gandalf said.

Radagast closed his eyes and sighed. "I had hoped not, for all our sakes," he admitted. "I have not reached for the greater powers within for a very long time."

"You will find them not as rusty as you fear," Galadriel said. "Your kind heart has done you well. Now, go and turn your heart to your Valar. She will help you find your way."

Radagast took a deep breath and nodded firmly at Galadriel. "Yes, I think I will."

Bilbo stuck his head in the door under Radagast's arm. "If we're done dealing with Saruman, do you think that we could talk about what is next for the quest? It's not so much that I want to discuss this now, as that we are on a schedule. We only have six days left to plan."

"Then we must make the most of the time we have left," Elrond said, still rather annoyed at the Hobbit.

Bilbo, Thorin, Kili and Fili, Balin and Dwalin entered the chamber, Bilbo carrying a large map. "Thank you, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel." Bilbo rolled out the map. While he did so, Elrond called for Glorfindel and his sons, Elladan and Elrohir. When everyone was gathered around the table, Bilbo started tracing their planned route. "This is the path the Company must take. Here in the Misty Mountains I must get under Goblin Town. Last time I fell and nearly broke my neck. In all honesty I do not think that I will survive another attempt at such a feat. If I hadn't fallen on a patch of large mushrooms I would have died."

"Not going to happen," Thorin interrupted.

Bilbo flashed him a smile, but returned to his explanation. "Here next to an underground lake is what remains of a Hobbit. Yavanna has asked that I send him home to her. I will also find a certain ring there."

Grim faces showed around the table. They all knew exactly which ring Bilbo was talking about. Thorin said, "Last time while Bilbo was dealing with his fall and that, my Company was captured by goblins and taken to Goblin Town. Gandalf, you found us in time to stun or even kill some of the goblins. It gave us a chance to fight our way out of the mountains. You even managed to kill the goblin's king on the way out."

"We met up again with Bilbo on the slope here," Fili said. "From here, we were chased by Orcs on wargs to this cliff."

"We were pinned against a deadly fall or facing the Orcs. We fought them, and Gandalf called the great Eagles to our rescue," Thorin said, glossing over a huge amount, but not willing to go into the details at the moment.

"The Eagles brought us to here, the Carrock and from there we met with and spent a few weeks recovering at Beorn's," Kili said. "From there we entered Mirkwood."

"It was then that we parted ways with Gandalf," Thorin said. "It was not a good parting." He threw a look at Gandalf and Gandalf grimaced, realizing that this was one of the times that Thorin had not been told something he deemed important.

Bilbo spoke again. "He went to Dol Guldur to investigate it and got himself captured. The White Council rescued him, but Saruman told the two of you to leave Sauron to him. Needless to say, that wasn't the best thing to do as what he really intended to do was to usurp Sauron and become the next Dark Lord. While that was happening, we were 'guests' of Thranduil."

"By the time Bilbo stole us back from him, Gandalf had been freed, but he was still very weak," Thorin continued. "We went on to Lake Town and from there to Erebor. We entered the mountain on Durin's Day, which is on October 1st of this year. Needless to say that didn't go well and Smaug awoke and set fire to Lake Town. Two weeks later while Thranduil, Bard and I were arguing over the treasure hoard, two armies of Orcs led by Azog the Defiler attacked Erebor. I died, as did my sister-sons in that battle."

"I went home to the Shire," Bilbo said, disappointed in himself now. "Dain became King under the Mountain and life went on as best it could considering that Sauron was on the loose and looking for the ring. Eighty years later war broke out in truth and lots of things happened then, eventually ending with my nephew destroying the ring." He took a deep breath. "Now. How are we going to change all of that?"


	17. Chapter 17

July 2

Legolas was waiting when his older brothers finally entered the palace. Calithildir, the eldest, clapped a hand on Legolas' shoulder and said, "Tell me what causes you to recall us. Is Father well? We saw how the darkness has grown in the wood. Have you discovered the cause?" As the heir, Calithildir had been concerned about the state of the realm as much as he was about their father.

Legolas nodded. "The cause is not something that we can do anything about. What remains of Sauron dwells in Dol Guldur. Tauriel has become Twice-Born and has assured me that the White Council will drive him out late this Summer. Father does not know. He's having enough trouble right now dealing with what Tauriel has told him of what is to come." He gestured for them to follow him to the royal wing.

"He's been throwing fits, hasn't he?" Rivalion said, exasperated. The second son of Thranduil was a healer and had been studying under Lord Elrond for the last several centuries. "He'll be even worse when he hears about the Dwarrow returning to Erebor and if he does not stop the rages will kill him, Sindar or not."

Lamaenor, the brother closest in age to Legolas who had been studying in Lorien, said, "I heard that they were asking for help from the Lady and her Lord! I heard that the Lady Galadriel sent a message to Haldir, the march warden, about gathering their warriors to escort her to Dol Guldur and then to Erebor! I know she means to fight, but why she would think to fight Smaug for the Dwarrow is beyond me."

"It is not Smaug she intents to fight, but the two armies of Orcs that will come following Smaug's demise," Tauriel said as she opened the doors to the royal wing. "Hail the sons of Thranduil! Welcome you are in these halls!"

Callithildir raised an eyebrow. "Because Father is getting worse in a time of crisis?" he asked knowingly. He'd played Orcs and Warriors with Tauriel once upon a time, trying to cheer the sorrowful elfling orphan. She'd grown into a fine warrior, the determination that had driven her after her parents deaths never leaving her, but now he saw a hopefulness that he'd despaired of her ever having. Perhaps it was because, as Legolas had told them, he could see that she was Twice-Born. She'd found something to bring her joy. It was good to see.

Tauriel smiled. "It matters little to me. I will leave his service soon, and managing his temper will be your problem. I do not know where I will go after the battle, either to serve in Dale or in Erebor, but I do not plan return to the Woodland realm for some time."

"And what could take you from these Halls, Tauriel?" asked Lameanor. "I seem to remember a young elfling that told me she would guard our family until we all sailed."

Tauriel's smile turned a little dreamy. "I have found my Heart, and he is more than I could ever have dreamed of. He is cousin to Legolas' Heart," she admitted. Then her smile turned mischievous as she looked over at Legolas. "He was also a shock, and one that I am not sure your father will survive being told of." 

Legolas gave a theatrical sigh. "I am not sure what will be worse for him. Finding out that I found my Heart, that I fought in a war at the side of a dwarf," he glanced at his brothers, "or that I married him on a battlefield."

All three of his brothers stopped dead and turned on him. "WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" they yelled.

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Thorin packed his bag alongside Bilbo as Nori made his report. Dwalin was guarding the door, pretending to play a game with Balin. "Near as I can figure out, the Silvan Elves are to the rest of the Elves rather like the Petty Dwarves were to us. There won't be any problems with Kili claiming one of them as his One from the Elven nobles as they think that the Silvan Elves are beneath them, at least the worst of them think that way. I'm sure that Thranduil does, and the rest of the Silvan Elves might see us in a good light as we're offering up one of our princes for the deal. 

"The Elves here aren't nearly so bad. The elleths, that is the females, think that Kili is cute for wanting to craft for his One, and not one of the common Elves here objects to our praying to Mahal or thinks bad about us for excluding them from our ceremonies. So it looks like everything is good for Kili. Now, Fili on the other hand, is a bit of a strange case," Nori said, as he flipped a coin across his knuckles.

"How can a Daughter of Men be stranger than an Elf as a One?" Thorin asked.

Nori smirked. "Because Men are strange," he said. "If she follows the customs of her mother's people, Fili's golden - but her Ma is dead, so she may follow the customs of her Da's people, and the Northmen are strange. They make the bride provide a gift to the groom's parents, usually something important or symbolic. Then the girl has to have filled a chest with goods, usually textiles, for their new home. That's called a dower chest and they call a girl lazy if she doesn't have one filled to bursting and the groom has to inspect it to see if it's suitable. The marriage can be called off if it isn't. 

"The groom has to have some sort of home to bring his new bride to but! - and here's where it gets strange - the groom's family gives nothing to the bride's. There is no gift for the bride's family, no gold given or alliance made unless it is part of the bride's gift, and sometimes they even demand gold for the privilege of allowing the girl to marry their sons! The most the groom's family might do is pay for whatever ceremony there is, and most of the time that's just standing in front of the priest saying some vows, so no need to pay for anything really."

Thorin dropped his bedroll on the bed he and Bilbo shared and turned to stare at Nori. "What in Mahal's great forge are you talking about?!" he asked.

Nori nodded. "Yeah, thought you'd see it that way. The most a bride's family can hope for is that the lad actually loves the girl and wants to marry her. You know that isn't always the way of it with Men. It's a contract for most of them with the lad's family holding all of the power. Seeing as she grew up a poor bargeman's daughter, she's going to expect the worst, especially when she becomes the princess of Dale. You know how Men see us - greedy, and worse, so I think we'll have a problem with her Da. There's a good chance that he either won't allow her to marry Fili at all, or he'll be so well, thinking like a Man that the best thing we can do is get Fili battle wedded before he knows what's up."

"Bilbo?" Thorin asked, turning towards his One.

"It might be a good idea," Bilbo said cautiously. "Bard's not the greedy type, so there's that. He loves his family with all of his heart, but I have known Hobbits who are the same who are especially protective of their daughters because of it. I think the most he might want is to turn their marriage into an alliance between Erebor and Dale. That would give him some leverage into making certain that she's protected during her marriage. We'd already planned for that, so it's not a problem, but he might see it as selling his daughter for the alliance instead and I know that he will fight that with everything he's got if he thinks so."

"Men!" Thorin snorted. "Why must they make everything so complicated? They are each other's Ones. Nothing should get in the way of that. It only leads to people being forced to live without half of their souls."

"That's because Men have no real way to tell when someone is their Soul Match. Dwarrow can tell with a look, Elves can tell through a conversation, and we Hobbits can tell through a touch. I knew when you hugged me on the Carrock," Bilbo teased. 

"That must have been lovely," Nori said. "How much gold did I win?"

"Yes, I do believe that you won a great deal, but I never saw how much. We were without our packs by then and honestly it would have been a lot lovelier if he hadn't yelled at me most of the way through him telling me that he was wrong," Bilbo said with a grin.

Thorin just shook his head. "I was wrong. You'd just faced down Azog on your own to protect me with nothing more than your little letter opener THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO USE. I was a little upset to find that out and we'd all had a trying few days," he said, dismissing his actions.

"Oh there's no doubt that we'd all had a trying few days, Thorin, but you still yelled at me while trying to apologize," Bilbo said, calmly folding his extra shirt. "I'm not going to let you live that down."

Thorin rolled his eyes. "I was not asking you to. I hope that you never let me get away with wronging you. You deserve no less."

"Just you wait until I'm telling you that you're being an idiot when you've been yelling at Thranduil and Bard over some little thing that anyone with sense could see just needs a little compromise," Bilbo said with a sniff.

Nori turned to Thorin. "Are you sure he isn't going to be your Consort? Cause it sounds to me like he is." 

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Rukuc put on his best clothes and picked up the large chest made from wood that he had purchased from the Elves. He had no talent with wood. He had asked that one of his brothers that had skill in that craft to make the chest and carve the wedding of Mahal and Yavanna into the front of it as a symbol of what he hoped for, and to cover the rest of the chest in carvings of herbs used in cooking and traditional knotwork. Inside the chest were many little clever compartments each holding items that would be of use in a kitchen; pots and pans, clever little cups and spoons for measuring that nestled into one another, utensils made of steel and copper, steel bowls and plates for serving and mixing as well as for eating off of, copies of items that he personally had no clue about but he had found in the Lord of Rivendell's kitchens, and bakeware such as bread pans. There was also a smaller chest inside that held a variety of spices and herbs that he'd gotten from the Elves. He was ready.

The Smallburrow family was sitting beside a fountain near where the caravan was camped. Rukuc approached them and carefully set the chest down in front of Holly. "I am Rukuc, son of Hethuc, and I wish to present you with a courting gift. I hope that it will be acceptable to you."

Holly simply stared at Rukuc for a moment before staring at the chest for a moment more. She then glanced at her twin, who was laughing her head off along with Dwek, and her parents before staring once more at Rukuc. She chewed on her lip for yet another moment before seeming to come to a decision. She picked up the chest, and rather than return it which is what he thought she was going to do when she picked it up, she gave it to her mother and walked away.

All of the rest of the Hobbits then joined in the laughter, and Turpin got up and walked over to Rukuc. "Come with me, lad. It's not as bad as you think." The Hobbit led the healer over to where there was yet another bench surrounded by flowers. "Now, what Holly did, that's not a no, but nor is it a yes. It's a try again, which is why most lads start out with posies rather than something as nice as that chest. So let me help you out. You're a healer, so you should know your flowers enough to be able to tell one from another. Some of the lads I've seen trying to make posies can't tell a rose from a bluebell." 

Turpin then led Rukuc through the flower garden, showing him each flower and telling him what the flower meant in the Hobbit's flower language. Rukuc was relieved to find out that not only was he able to tell which flowers were which, the flower language turned out to be not that different from the language of gems that he'd learned as a small dwarfling. He'd master this language, and hopefully he'd be able to speak it better than Westron when it came to his One.

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Holly waited until Rukuc had left with her father before coming out of hiding. Her sisters were still laughing at her and Dwek had a look of mischief in his eyes. "You knew about this," she accused him.

"I knew that he was up to something, but he really didn't consult me about his gift," Dwek admitted. "He just asked how Hobbits court and I told him what I was told - comforts, food and flowers."

"Well, let's see what he gifted my mother then," Holly said and her sisters and her mother began to investigate the chest.

"That's the wedding of the Smith and the Green Lady," Dwek pointed out. "And the knotwork is a traditional Dwarrow design, mostly done on items made for a home." He knocked on the carvings. He didn't bother to mention the plants. The lasses would already know them far better than he would.

Daisy lifted the chest lid, Holly not being allowed to touch it as she'd given it to her mother, and Daisy gasped. On top inside the chest was a cast iron griddle. Daisy took it out of the chest and set it on the ground beside her. One by one each compartment was opened and the contents displayed to her daughters. When the final one was opened, she had tears flowing down her face. "I cannot take this from you, Holly! Not such a gift as this! He prepared an entire kitchen for you! A kitchen fit for a Took!"

Holly gave her mother a stubborn look. "All the more reason for me to give it to you!" she argued. "Who ever heard of such an opening gift? Either he's trying to buy my affections or he's being an idiot of a dwarf. I don't know which yet, but I'm willing to give him a chance to show me. That's all he gets at this point. We've barely gone from insulting each other to civilized speech. He'd never even told me his name before now."

"Well, he put a lot of work into this," Ivy pointed out. "I don't think that he meant to be insulting at least. He never seems to."

"Aye, and we dwarrow like to give the best gifts possible to our One to show how much we appreciate the gift we've been given from Mahal," Dwek said. "It's not unusual for a dwarf to give the absolute best and biggest courting gifts he can make or afford. Mind you, it's supposed to be made by your own hand, but if part of your gift is something that you have no talent in then it's acceptable for a member of your family to help. The last thing a dwarf would do is buy something as a courting gift though."

"Alright Dwek," Holly said. "It's up to you right now, since you speak dwarf better than we do. Find out if he meant this to show his riches, or if he meant it as something he thought I would like. If he thought I would like it, tell him it was too much, too soon, and if he really wants to give me a kitchen gift, I'll need a cookstove like Master Baggins had in Bag End when I'm building my smial. That would be an extremely good final gift only, as to give such before the final courting gift would mean he is far too far above me in station for me to even consider as a husband. In fact, if a dwarf had given this to any of my sisters as a final gift I would have thought it very appropriate. We're not nobles after all." Dwek nodded and promised to pass on the message. 

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Bilbo looked back at Rivendell as he rode his pony out of the valley. This time he was not on foot, and he had more than his dwarrow with him. Fifty Elven warriors, including the Elrond's twin sons and Glorfindel, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn followed the Company as they rode out. Ten of the Elves would take the ponies and horses on to Beorn's through the lower pass while Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn and an honor guard left for Dol Guldur, and the Company and the rest of the Elves dealt with the higher pass of the Misty Mountains and the dangers that waited for them there. 

Bilbo, Elladan, and Elrohir would go and find Gollum, (and the ring), while the rest of the group went after the Goblin King, it having been decided that throwing the goblins into chaos before the battle was a worthwhile goal. They would also kill as many goblins as they could on the way out to join Bilbo and the twins which is why Glorfindel was going with them rather than with Bilbo. The Company would then travel to Beorn's to collect the horses, ponies and their Elven escort before traveling to deal with Thranduil. Everyone would then meet at Lake Town when they were done with their respective tasks.

Bilbo was not looking forward to facing Gollum again, but leaving him alive was not acceptable. Not only had the Green Lady asked him send the ancient Hobbit back to her for healing, the twisted creature had bitten off one of Frodo's fingers. So, he was going to kill Gollum, or at least he was going to try. The way that Thorin kept looking at him made him think that he was going to send at least one of the dwarrow with him rather than leaving his protection to the twins while he was separated from the rest of the Company. That was a concern for later as it would take nearly a week of walking, or rather a few days of riding in order to get to the Misty Mountains at all. If they were very lucky they would be able to avoid the thunderstorm, (and the thunder battle that went with it), altogether.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, but chapter 19 has been like pulling teeth to finish. I don't write conflict well and I have had to scrap a lot before I got something that I was willing to think about posting.

July 2

Sylvi, daughter of Ravi, was the 'dam in charge of the first caravan. She had insisted on becoming the caravan master because her husband, Gloin, son of Groin, had been one of those chosen by the king to go with him to help Prince Kili slay Smaug. Her son Gimli had also been chosen to drive and guard the king's One, the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins' personal wagon. She would not allow her son to travel so far without her. She allowed him the responsibility that he had been given though. She was no Daughter of Men to coddle her son beyond what was called for, but she still kept an eye on him. He was not yet grown, no matter how much he protested that he was old enough. "All is well?" she asked Gimli as he hitched up his oxen.

"Yes, Amad! I'll be ready to go in just a pick swing!" Gimli swore. She laughed, ruffled his hair and continued on down the line, inspecting the caravan for readiness. They would be leaving Rivendell shortly.

She was the only one of the wives of the Company to make the journey this year. Bombur's wife, Kaes, had dwarflings to look after and Dis had made a royal decree that no dwarflings would travel until next year in order to give the Hobbits time to work their magic. No one wanted the dwarflings to be touched by the dragon's poison so although the dwarflings pleaded, their parents remained firm in agreeing with Dis' edict. They would travel next Spring. 

Dwalin's wife, Taika, daughter of Borka, had discovered she was with child right after he left, and so she would not journey until after the child was born, should he be lucky enough to be born. Sylvi had not told Dwalin as the outcome was so uncertain. If the child survived until birth, then he would have a grand surprise when they finally made it to Erebor. 

As far as she knew none of the Ri's were married, although Balin had been attempting to court Dori for years. Perhaps by the time this quest was over the dwarrowdam would finally give in to his so very proper advances. She hoped so for their sakes. She knew that Dori wasn't indifferent to the king's councilor, but with Ori to raise and him being Balin's journeyman, she had some concerns over the propriety of the matter. Personally Sylvi thought she was worried over nothing. Balin was her One, anyone could see that, and the dwarrow would never be the sort to use his position nefariously. None of the rest of the Company was married, although she had seen the courtship braids in King Thorin's hair and in the hair of his Hobbit One.

Sylvi had out of necessity learned a lot about Hobbits in the last few months. A more cheerful race she had never encountered. Every morning they sang, and every rest day, (every seventh from their leaving the Shire), they all gathered together under the largest tree they could find and sang to Yavanna, the Green Lady. That evening they would all gather together again for supper and a dance. They insisted that the dwarrow join them as well. She was suspicious that the dancing had something to do with Ones because she'd seen no less than ten dwarrows who'd had their flower bundles rejected by some Hobbit lass suddenly become a suitor overnight after one of those dances.

Sylvi passed by one of the healer's wagons and had to hold her laughter in at the sight that met her eyes. Rukuc was standing guard this morning and his face was twisted in a fearsome scowl and he was apparently picking what flowers he could without leaving his station. She'd heard that his One had given his first courting gift to her mother, and no one knew what to make of that. On the other hand, everyone knew that he hated standing guard duty. Either way, the dwarf was in a sour mood this morning. Hopefully he would be the only one, and they could get off to a quick start.

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"Elorhir, Elladen!" Lord Elrond roared the morning they had reached the Misty Mountains and their scheduled departure from one another. Thorin had no idea why he would be yelling at his sons, but dismissed it in favor of eating his breakfast. Dwalin dug into his meal with a growl, daring anyone to say anything.

Just then Fili and Kili entered the camp, each of them covered in water skins. "Lord Elrond!" Kili called. "It wasn't them."

"Yeah," Fili agreed. "They just helped us to find the dye!" 

Apparently that was no better for Elrond, who had paused to listen to the princes, turned back to his sons and continued to scold them. When he was finished he left behind a set of very chastised twins, (who moved to help Fili and Kili with watering the horses and ponies), and moved over to where Thorin and Dwalin were eating. Thorin gestured for Elrond to join them and the Elf Lord easily sat on the ground next to them. "I apologize for their help," he said.

"Do not worry about it, Lord Elrond," Thorin said easily. "We knew that my sister-sons would not be able to hold off on their pranks forever. Indeed, I am honestly surprised and proud that it took them this long before the mischief began."

"Easy enough for you to say," Dwalin growled. "They didn't dye your beard blue!"

"Better that they vent their mischief on you. The only thing you will do is run them into the ground in training. There's no telling what would have happened if they had tried that on one of the Elves," Thorin pointed out.

"Wish they had," Dwalin said plainly. "Elves don't have beards." He was not happy about the situation and had already promised the lads dire consequences when they met again in the training ring.

"There will soon be those joining you in wishing that another target had been chosen," Elrond said. "My sons are famous for their pranks, and as they seem to have found fellow mischief makers in the princes, I have no doubt that they will soon try to see who can play the most impressive prank."

Thorin groaned. "Please do not give them any ideas! Fili and Kili are bad enough on their own!"

"I fully understand and agree," Elrond said. He eyed Bilbo sitting quietly next to Thorin, apparently completely absorbed in his meal. "Although with as many pranksters as there are with us, I do not expect that I will need to say anything."

Thorin smiled. Elrond was still mildly upset with Bilbo over the tween incident it seemed. "Don't bother. He's nonfunctional until after first breakfast."

Just then Gandalf and Radagast came by on their way to their horses. "Did you change your beard, Master Dwalin? It's most becoming," Radagast said, his head tilted in contemplation. Dwalin growled, jumped up and stormed off to wash his dish. "Was it something I said," he asked, as Thorin laughed. It was their last bit of levity as the group loaded up their horses and ponies with the supplies that they could not lose and parted ways. He would have to thank Fili and Kili later, once they had reached Beorn's. A little laughter before the trials ahead was appreciated, but he would have to stress that they should be careful with the timing and severity of their pranks.

Thorin was not exactly happy as he fell in behind Bofur on the trail to one of the high passes. They were taking no packs with them, and everything that they needed to survive until they could meet at Beorn's was kept on their bodies. They could survive a few days to a week it would take for them to get there and if they had not, (as Thorin's life before had shown him), they would lose everything to the Goblins. It would not do to show up to meet Thranduil as they had before, much less the pitiful showing that they had made in Lake Town. Even if they were traveling, Thorin was determined that they would make a better showing when they presented themselves to the families of his sister-sons' Ones. 

Bofur was leading as Bifur could not make himself understood to the ten Elves that traveled with the Company, and Thorin would not allow Elrond's sons to come into danger that he could prevent by being sensible as Bilbo put it. Bofur knew to use his stone sense to find the cave with the trap door that would lead them into Goblin Town. Thorin only wished that they could make use of the cave as a camp site before heading into Goblin Town, but if they did that they would lose the element of surprise, and as they did not have Gandalf along with them this time, (he had headed off to Dol Guldur with the rest of the those confronting Sauron), they had to carefully use every advantage they had. Personally Thorin was grateful that his part did not include making the trip to Dol Guldur. He had no wish to confront the Dark Lord personally.

The twins already flanked Bilbo, having sworn to Thorin to protect the Hobbit from any dangers that lie in the depths of the mountains on his journey to his fallen kinsman and the ring. Thorin still wanted to send a dwarf with them, and was considering Bifur as Bilbo had learned Ingishmek rather quickly. In fact, Thorin had suspicions that Bilbo had learned the hand language before their return to the past, although he was very careful not to ask. If anyone had the right to learn it was Bilbo, after all that he had done for the Dwarrow in helping to regain Erebor and Arda in hiding the One Ring for so very long.

It seemed that keeping the horses and ponies until they had actually reached the mountains had done the trick as they managed to get to the path ahead of the thunderstorm. Thorin, Bilbo, Fili and Kili had all individually warned everyone of what was to happen should they be on the path when the thunderstorm hit. No one wanted an up close look at a thunder battle, although Bofur had admitted a little wistfully that he would have liked to have seen the stone giants at a distance. At that Fili and Kili had both stopped dead in their tracks and said, "No! You really wouldn't!", before continuing on their way. As it was, although the path was still treacherous, no one was in danger of falling off, even with the Elves situated between the Dwarrow as to ensure that they did not lose the path. To Thorin this was a good thing. He still had night terrors about Bilbo falling to his death.

As it was the thunderstorm was just beginning when Bofur found the right cave. Everyone piled inside, grateful to be out of the storm even though they could not make a camp. Elladen picked Bilbo up and wedged him into a crevice up off of the cave floor and perched beside him. Elorhir did the same on Bilbo's other side, and Thorin gestured to Bifur to join them. :Make certain that they do not get lost in the caverns below: Thorin signed. :I would not trust any of them not to get lost in the depths: Bifur grinned and nodded before wedging his boar spear into the crack below Bilbo. Then he used it to brace himself on the wall, showing Thorin that he too would guard Bilbo as much as he could. Thorin had to be satisfied with that. He had done all he could to protect his One, now it was time for his own treacherous journey to begin.

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Bilbo watched from his perch up in the cave wall as Bofur and Thorin carefully worked something that he could not see that opened the trap door. As each of the Dwarrow and Elves carefully worked their way down into the shaft below, Bilbo could see that each of them were bracing themselves in such a way that he could not hope to emulate; which was rather why he thought that Elladen had wedged him into the space that he was currently occupying. 

Once the others had left for Goblin Town, Elladen reached into the crevice and pulled Bilbo out. He then rather pointedly put Bilbo onto his brother's back. Clinging to the Elf like a faunt being brought home after too much fun at a birthday party was not an image that Bilbo wanted anyone else to see, but there was no choice. Dwarrow were so at home beneath the earth that finding handholds to make their way down was no problem for them, and Elves were so light that the same holds, once pointed out to them, were simple for them to use. Hobbits on the other hand, were neither Elf light nor Dwarrow strong. Clinging to Elorhir's back was the only way for the Hobbit to get down the shaft without falling.

After a harrowing, (to Bilbo at least), journey down the shaft, the Hobbit led the two Elves and Bifur to the place where he had once fallen from the path to Goblin Town. Ahead of them they could neither see nor hear any of their fellows. Bilbo could only hope that they could stay quiet long enough for them to get close to the Goblin King. This was the one time during this mad quest of theirs that he was to be separated from Thorin and the boys and he was not taking it well.

Bilbo tried to put the dangers that the others were facing out of his mind as Bifur scouted out a way down that did not include the nasty fall that Bilbo had taken before. Once Bifur had found what he thought would be a suitable path, he gestured for the Elves to follow, and Bilbo was once more reduced to riding on Elorhir's back with Elladen following. Once they were out of sight of any Goblins the twins began to glow slightly, releasing the hold they had on the light that shown from their skin. It was most easily seen in the darkness, but Elves often hid the light when not in their own safe places. It would be far too easy for an Orc or a Goblin to see them at night otherwise. Bilbo knew perfectly well that Glorfindel had a brighter glow and that the mischievous Elf was planning on using that glow to help confuse the Goblins when they attacked Goblin Town. He hoped that it helped.

Once they reached the bottom of the crevasse, Bilbo looked around for the mushroom patch that he had fallen onto before. From there, it was far too easy to find the ring. "It's here," he whispered. The four of them gathered around the ring on the floor, and the others watched as Bilbo carefully used one of his handkerchiefs to pick up the ring. He pulled the box out of his pocket and with a sigh of relief, placed the ring inside. With the ring shut away the very air seemed lighter, and Elladen asked quietly. "Where do we find your fallen kinsman, Bilbo?"

"I never said that he was fallen," Bilbo said as he pocketed the box and drew Sting. "I said that what remains of a Hobbit is here. Do you not think that the Green Lady would have taken him into her gardens if he had fallen? The ring has done much damage to him, and he is no longer much of a Hobbit having carried it for centuries, but she has asked that I send him home to her so that she may heal what she can."

"I thought that Hobbits only lived about a century or so?" Elorhir asked.

"We do," Bilbo confirmed, and began walking towards the underground lake. "It's the ring's fault that he has not passed on to her gardens long before now. Smeagol!" he called out as he reached the edge of the lake. "Smeagol!" He would not tempt the once Hobbit out with promises that he did not intend to keep, but it was tempting.

"What is this?" came from the darkness. "Elveses, and others, what does they want with Smeagol?"

"Is they tasty? Cans we eats them?" The twins were struck by the madness that they could hear in the whisper and each shuddered at the maliciousness of the second set of questions.

"Not Goblins, not fishes, those tasty." Bifur too, was horrified by the whisper in the dark and was not surprised when the Elves began glowing even brighter in rejection of the thought that the one whispering wanted to eat them.

"Elveses too bright! Bash them on the heads! Put out the light!" it screeched, and then Gollum came flying out of the darkness, having jumped down to try and bash Elladen's head open. The sons of Elrond were far too versed in battle to be taken by surprise like that, and both of them easily evaded Gollum's attack. The demented creature was trying to brain them with a rock in his hand, not even trying to hide after his first attempt, and danced around in frustration every time they stepped out of his reach.

Bilbo was grateful that the twins had Gollum occupied. It made it far too easy to slip Sting into Gollum's back, through his heart, and out the front of his chest. Bilbo ignored the stares that the twins and Bifur gave him. "Go to her gardens in peace, Smeagol, and may the Green Lady hold you in her hands until you are healed," he whispered as he lowered the body off of Sting. "We need to bury him in the light," he told them. 

The others nodded, both shocked by Bilbo's actions and by Smeagol/Gollum's attack on the twins. :Who was he?: Bifur asked.

"His name was Smeagol, but as his madness grew he was more often referred to as Gollum for the noise he made," Bilbo said wearily as he carefully wrapped the emancipated body in the blanket he had brought for the purpose. "To Hobbits, he is a warning tale, and the reason that we give gifts on our birthdays rather than receive them. Smeagol's cousin found the ring, and Smeagol murdered him for it, claiming that it was his birthday present. Of course, Smeagol had a weak mind and the ring went to work on it immediately. It didn't take long for his mind to fracture under the strain. He took to wearing it and using it to murder people in their homes. We Hobbits drove him out of our lands, but he was the last bit of danger that we could take in that dark time, and all of our people left the Anduin Valley and our work there. Thus began the Wandering Years, and Smeagol's exile. Now he is given back to the Green Lady."

Bilbo carried the body himself, refusing to allow anyone else to do so. He led the group out of the mountain and onto the slope where a baker's dozen of dwarrow had once ran away from Goblin Town. He hoped that they would be able to do so again. As the sun was shining, it did not take long for him to find an appropriate place to lay Smeagol to rest. Again refusing help from the others, he dug a shallow grave and laid the ancient Hobbit to rest.


	19. Chapter 19

This was not a good memory, Fili decided, as he carefully climbed down the shaft into Goblin Town. Why had he agreed to do this a second time? Yes, they had made it out last time, thanks to Gandalf - WHO WASN'T WITH THEM THIS TIME!!!!! - but the Goblin King had been a terrible foe, as much for his singing as for his sending a message to Azog and the harrowing escape they'd had through Goblin Town once he'd been vanquished - again by Gandalf! Not to mention the entire situation with Azog, his troops and the trees. He really did not want to have to deal with hanging from a tree limb over a cliff and watching his uncle storm through fire to reach the Pale Orc.

One shot, straight through Goblin Town, was all that they could hope to be able to accomplish. That was all that they were going to try for, and Fili had made as many prayers to Mahal as he could that they would all survive this part of their journey. He and Kili had drawn maps of their short run through Goblin Town, and Thorin had shared many observations with the Elves, most notably Glorfindel. The Balrog slayer was hopefully more than capable of taking Gandalf's place in confronting the Goblin King, although he did remember Bilbo telling them that it couldn't be that hard as his ancestor 'Bullroarer' Took had taken on a Goblin King and won handily.

Fili grinned to himself as he landed on the path to Goblin Town. That little tidbit from their Hobbit had put the starch in not only the Company, but the Elves as well. A Hobbit had single handedly taken out a Goblin King, verified by Gandalf. A tall Hobbit, (all of four feet, four inches which meant that he had been the size of a Dwarf), but a Hobbit all the same. Kili slipped next to him, and he quietly said, "For the Shire!" to his brother. 

Kili grinned in return. "For the Bullroarer!" he replied, trying to stay quiet, but everyone heard him.

Thorin smacked him on the head. "Quiet! No need to give the game away now!" he growled quietly. Here Thorin led them down the tunnels, his usual lack of a sense of direction no problem underground even in the polluted stone of Goblin Town. The sentries that came to check the trap were ludicrously easy to take out as they were on their feet and armed instead of disoriented and without their weapons. "Forward," Thorin ordered, once the sentries were dead. 

The group moved into a quick jog, still trying to stay quiet. Glorfindel followed immediately behind Thorin, and Fili and Kili were behind him. The rest of them trailed behind, the Elves intermixed with the Company. Dwarrow were not quiet - especially when they were trying to get somewhere quickly. Never the less, the lack of sentries meant that they made it all the way to the hive that was Goblin Town itself before they were discovered.

Having already decided just what little strategy would work in this situation, Thorin yelled, "Du Bekar!" and charged the Goblins headed for him and the others. Glorfindel, obviously having a terrible sense of humor, cried, "For the Shire!" at the top of his lungs as he let his light flare. The others joined in, and Fili had to admit that he'd started it. Never the less, as they charged down the path, the cries and light from the Elves seemed to discombulate the goblins, resulting in a second's hesitation here and there, as if the goblins couldn't quite believe their ears, and many seemed blinded by Glorfindel.

That hesitation was everything, as it gave the veteran warriors the openings that they needed. Goblin after goblin was struck down both by sword and by bow as they charged along the path. Fili quickly fell into a rhythm of one, two sword strikes. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and instinct had him catching a sword on one of his own that had been meant to strike Kili. Kili killed the goblin and a sound, a peculiar sound that most often only farmers and warriors knew, had Fili twisting to see that the Elf behind him had gutted a goblin bent on killing him. He nodded his thanks and called, "Keep moving! For the Shire!"

"There you are!" came from ahead of them, the voice Glorfindel's. "You're smaller than the Bullroarer said you'd be. Of course, it's been a while since I've talked with him, a few hundred years. You're probably not the one he was talking about, mortals living such short lives. Too bad, I was looking forward to dueling that Goblin King."

Fili looked ahead and saw that not only was Glorfindel talking out his long, waggly ears, he was doing it while dancing around the Goblin King, easily taking out the king's guards. Thorin was battling beside him, his sword glowing blue in the presence of the goblins, and Fili couldn't decide if the presence of Orcrist was helping or not. Just like last time the sight of Orcrist had the goblins in a frenzy. As many were trying to kill Thorin as were trying to get away from him. Thorin turned back to back with Glorfindel as the last of the Goblin King's guards fell. 

Fili and Kili barreled on past them, leading the way for the others as Glorfindel began taking on the Goblin King. "It's probably the height difference!" Kili called as they became the new front of the line of warriors.

"True!" Glorfindel laughed as he dodged a blow from the Goblin King's club. Turning back, he swiftly backhanded his foe with his sword. Unfortunately for the Goblin King, it wasn't the flat of his sword that connected. The edge of the sword cut easily through the monstrous throat and neck, finally silencing the caterwauling that had been sounding since they had been discovered. 

By this time most of the group had gone past the duel, and Thorin and Glorfindel fell into the back guard position. From there the Elf and the Dwarf fought their way through the rest of the shocked and enraged goblins. It was a running battle, the Elves who had bows and had arrows remaining concentrating on shooting any goblin that looked to have a distance weapon, and the rest simply trying to keep the goblins from forcing them off the path that Fili was leading them down.

Thanks to not having stopped while Glorfindel dueled the Goblin King, and the momentary shock when the king's head parted from his shoulders, Fili and Kili managed to get ahead of the swarming hoards. When goblins lept down onto the wooden walkway Fili repeated Dwalin's trick with the poll cut from the railing from last time, using it as a battling ram to knock a great many goblins off the rickety path and down into the chasms below. Nevertheless, as they ran more and more goblins came to battle them. 

More than once a weapon of opportunity made itself into a dwarf's hands, and pieces of the path itself were often used to crush goblins both ahead and behind the warriors. Once they even cut away a hanging part of the path and used it as a swing to reach a new level lower down. Fili was always on the lookout for a better path than the one they had followed before. Falling nearly to their deaths at the bottom of the great cavern was not something he wanted to repeat. Fili's stone sense wasn't the strongest in the group by any means, but knowing where he wanted to come out, even the polluted stone of the cavern showed him the way when there were outcroppings of rock to scurry over.

They were not granted the brief reprieve this time that falling had given them before. The goblins chased them hot on their heels all the way to the back door out of the mountain. Fortunately for them the dawn had broken, and bright sunlight flooded the mountain meadow that lay outside of the goblin's back door. The goblins could not follow.

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Thorin fell gasping next to Bilbo, and the fresh grave that the Hobbit had obviously dug. "He is at rest then?" he managed to pant out.

"Yes....?," Bilbo drawled. "I take it that the raid was a little bit harder this time?"

Thorin waved at Glorfindel, who was one of the few still standing. "Took the creature's head clean off." He waited until his breathing slowed before continuing. "I must say that your kinsman's feat is much more impressive than I first thought. I didn't remember just how tall that blasted goblin was. How in Arda did he even reach the goblin king's head to take it off?"

Bilbo grinned. He had always liked that story. "He was standing on top of a horse. The tales the family tell say that the force of his swing was made much stronger by the fact that the horse was charging at the time!"

"Standing?"

"On top of a charging horse?" came from the twins, and Thorin just waved them off. 

"We need to get moving. Azog and his Orcs are most likely on their way. We need to get down off this mountain before they reach us," he said. He was not going to take the blame when either of the Elves tried something that foolish. Well, foolish perhaps for a dwarf. A Hobbit had obviously managed it, and he wasn't going to look to see which of his Company was imagining if a dwarf could accomplish the feat. He already knew at least two were.

Thorin climbed back to his feet and set off down the mountain. Balin quickly moved ahead of him, nudging him slightly onto a different direction as he did so. Thorin grumbled to himself, but he had resigned himself to his lack of direction above ground. There was no telling how much of their journey last time had been delayed because he could not tell where he was. He would not let his pride stand in the way this time.

Oin was treating their injuries, fortunately nothing deadly serious although there were cuts, bruises, and other such injuries aplenty, as they hurried along. Thorin heard him grumble about not being able to stitch up the cuts, but Fili cut him off telling him that they had to get ahead of the Orcs on their trail. "Not that way!" Fili called to Balin, looking up from Oin as Balin began to turn along a path. "That way leads to the cliff! I'm not dealing with that again! Uncle Thorin can wait until the battle to try and take Azog's head off!"

"You didn't like your flight?" Bilbo cheekily asked from his place beside Thorin.

"NO! And Gandalf isn't with us this time to ask the Great Eagles to give us the ride either!" Fili complained. Balin ignored the complaint but took the direction, turning right instead of left. 

It was a good thing that Elves did not need as much sleep as the mortal races, and that Dwarrow were made to endure. For the rest of the day and far into the night they continued to travel. It was past midnight and they were nearing the foot of the mountain when they heard Warg howls on their trail, and one of the twins scooped up a flagging Bilbo and tossed him on Glorfindel's back. "Here, have the Hobbit. You got to have fun last time. It's our turn now!"

Thorin would have objected, except that he could see how exhausted Bilbo was. If it hadn't been for the need to cling to Glorfindel's back, the poor Hobbit would have fallen asleep then and there. Instead he made it his business to guard the burdened Elf. It really didn't make sense to take their best warrior, (and the Elf had taken out a Balrog on his own, so Thorin was more than willing to admit that he was the best warrior there), out of the potential battle, but he was also the sturdiest of the Elves. He was able to run farther on his longer legs and as one of the tallest in the group, Bilbo wasn't in danger of being dragged on the ground as he was being carried.

"With any luck there will be no fun!" Thorin growled. "Run!" And so they continued into the night, listening for the sounds of Wargs and hoping to keep ahead of the Orcs that rode them.

By the time morning came they were all exhausted, and poor Bilbo had actually managed to fall asleep in spite of his awkward position. Glorfindel had taken to carrying the Hobbit on his hip like a parent would a small child. When the sun was finally up and the rays of light had flooded the land, Thorin called for a halt. "We need rest. Make camp. Eat something. Get some sleep." He turned to the Elves. "Which ever of you has the watch, wake us when the sun is high or if you hear the Wargs getting close. We must get to the skinchanger's homelands before the Orcs reach us. We cannot afford to sleep longer than that." With that, he took Bilbo from Glorfindel and laid them both down to sleep.

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Tauriel had taken to taking heavily armed patrols along the smaller trail through the Mirkwood that linked the Elvenking's palace to the skinchanger's lands, killing as many spiders as they could. Telling Thranduil about Sauron living in Dol Guldur had taken its toll on the Elvenking. His healer son, Rivalion, had been forced to drug him into a healing sleep for nearly a week. They still hadn't told him about Legolas and Gimli. 

As it was, Thranduil had promised that he would not take out his ire at Thror on his grandson and great grandsons when they came to kill Smaug, although that in and of itself had been a fight. Thranduil was not completely sane about dragons, although many would argue that his paranoia was merely experience talking. Tauriel knew that was the best she was going to get. She could only hope that Thorin and his sister-sons were going to be more polite this time around.

Of course, last time there had been a marvelous dispute from the beginning on just what had happened in the first place. (The Elves - Thranduil - had insisted that the Dwarrow were invading or trespassing depending on the moment. The Dwarrow insisted that they were merely traveling and starving.) Tauriel knew now that the Dwarrow had been the ones in the right up until Thranduil and Thorin had gotten into it with each other. After that, well at least she'd had the privilege of locking up her Heart's Ease. Their long conversations had been what shown her who Kili was to her. She'd found out later that he had known her from the time he'd seen her riding a dead spider down out of the trees. He'd been suitably impressed.

"It's too soon you know," Legolas teased as they piled spider parts for burning, noting her wistful look at the edge of the forest.

"I don't care," she told him. "If I can make this path a little easier for them when they finally do arrive, I will do so. Besides, it is not as far away as you think."

Legolas sighed. It was terrible when Tauriel refused to jest with him. "I'm still not sure what to do when I meet Gloin," he admitted to her. If she was going to be serious, then'd he join in. It was true, after all. He hadn't a clue what to do about meeting with his Heart's father, long before he met or even recognized his Heart. Knowing these things before hand was supposed to be helpful, not make things more confusing.

"As long as you don't insult him, you will do better than you did the last time," Tauriel said sweetly. If he would tease, then he should be prepared for the consequences. "Be respectful, ask after Gimli and his mother, and be prepared to be told many tales, should he like you."

"No gifts," Legolas reaffirmed.

"No gifts," Tauriel nodded. "Gimli is a decade away from courting age. You will have plenty of time to confirm that you are each other's Heart."

Legolas joined her at the forest's edge. "How much longer before they reach us?" he asked. While he was actually glad that Gimli was too young to court, wanting to get to know his Heart before he took such steps, he still wanted to have his interactions with his Heart's family go well from the beginning.

"They should be crossing the Misty Mountains now. Then they'll spend some time with the skinchanger, Beorn. Once they leave him, they will enter Mirkwood here. I wish to be here to meet them," she admitted. "I know the dangers far better than they do, and I have no wish for Kili to endure the starvation that took them last time."

"Then we shall post a patrol here every day in case they are early," Legolas promised. "Calithildir will allow it, even if Father won't. Perhaps we can persuade Rivalion that Father needs to be otherwise occupied with a treatment of some sort when the Dwarrow arrive?"

Tauriel laughed, loud and long, just as Legolas had meant for her to. "It would serve him right for Calithildir to take over relations with the Dwarrow, after all he is the Crown Prince. I am certain that he would rather not have to see a Dwarrow at all."

Legolas frowned. "He's going to have to take part in the battle. I hope that Calithildir has a plan for that. Father may have recovered a great deal, but I am not certain that he is able to lead our warriors in a battle like the one you tell of."

"He survived last time," Tauriel pointed out gently.

"Calithildir was not here then, and you have told me that the only reason he rode out in the first place was to get the gems back," Legolas pointed out. "It was a worthy goal, but I'm certain that the cowardice you mentioned had more to do with his injuries than his fears."

"Perhaps," Tauriel allowed. "I was a bit upset when I called him out. You may be right that Calithildir is the better choice when we know that a true battle is coming. One should not send a blind Elf into battle after all, no matter how well he works with his armsmaster."


	20. Chapter 20

The caravan had set up camp at the base of the Misty Mountains. Holly had spent her day carefully considering the basketfull of posies that Rukuc had given her over the course of the last few days. He had never spoken a word, simply handing her a posy and continuing on his way. While they were not posies that a Hobbit lad would have given her, they spoke of things that made sense, and were of a more serious nature. Rukuc had obviously taken the time to memorize the flowers that her father had shown him.

Daffodils for regard, Camilla for admiration, and Gladiolus for sincerity; Hawthorn for hope, Orchid for beautiful lady, and Blue Violet for 'I'll always be true'; White Violet for taking chances on happiness, Orange Roses for fascination, and Magnolia which Dwek had told her meant that she was as a noble to Rukuc. Aparently Rukuc had wanted to make certain that message was clear.

The last posy, while a perfectly acceptable message, was one that a Hobbit would never have put together. Who would put dandelions, garlic, and Forsythia together? The message was one of happiness, faithfulness, courage and strength, and anticipation. Taken all together, Rukuc was making his feelings clear. He sincerely wanted to court her, and not for the Hobbit's well known fertility. That had been her true fear, that there would be Dwarrow wanting to court her only because she could give them children that their own 'dams could not, and a Healer would be more aware of that than an ordinary dwarf.

Holly shuddered as she remembered the covetous looks that had accompanied the conversation that she'd overheard. While the Dwarrow may not have meant anything by it other than their desire to have children, Holly had heard stories of Dwarven greed and the lengths that some Dwarrow would go to get their desires. Honestly, she didn't think that any of the Dwarrow she'd met would do such a thing, but there was always that little niggle in the back of her mind. 

At any rate, it looked like Rukuc wasn't such a Dwarf. In spite of his demeanor, which honestly wasn't so bad now that she knew he wasn't as rude as he appeared, he had tried to court her honestly with his people's customs and had gone and learned the flower language with her father to try and court her with Hobbit customs as well. He'd made a giant step towards her in respect to her customs, one that few Dwarrow had managed to do correctly, although many had tried. It was, she decided, time for her to do the same. 

Holly picked up the basket and walked over to the Healer's tent. There next to the fire were several Dwarrow, including Rukuc. She stood in front of him, twisting the handle of the basket in her hands, and said, "What I am about to do is extremely forward for my people. Hobbit lads give posies to invite a lass to dance because we learn of our Soul-Match by touch. It's considered a brazen thing for a lass to initiate that first touch. However, Dwek tells me that Dwarrow find their Ones by sight." 

All of the Dwarrow nodded, and Rukuc spoke, "I have not asked you to dance as I'm a terrible dancer. I did not know that you found your Ones this way. I meant no disrespect." Holly nodded and took another deep breath. She stuck her hand out to him, inviting him to take it. 

Rukuc gently took her hand in his and touched his forehead to the back of her hand. When he looked up, Holly was all smiles. "Well, that sorts that out. If you don't know, I'm Holly and my twin sister is Ivy. We plan on having farms right next to each other when we reach Erebor. I've two years and a bit before I'm of age and able to marry. Most Hobbits are born at Harvest time. I'm a Land Healer as is Ivy, so we'll be busy with Healing the Desolation once we arrive in Erebor. There won't be much time for courting then."

Rukuc nodded. "There are tales being told of a battle with Orcs to come once we reach Erebor. I imagine that I will be very busy as well for some time after." The other Dwarrow were muttering about 'stupid Orcs' and 'reckless idiots'. 

Holly froze for a moment, before she remembered the rumor going around Hobbiton that to go with the first two caravans was to be subjecting themselves to another Fell Winter - that must be what they were talking about. "I was but a mere faunt, a babe in arms really, when the Fell Winter came, but I remember the stories of the Orcs that came when the Brandywine froze that year. Many Hobbits lost their lives or came close to it that Winter, as much from injuries as from the cold and starvation. I don't know much of Healing people, but I do know enough to be an extra set of hands should you need them. I imagine that most of us will be volunteering what help we can offer."

Rukuc sighed. "We'll need all the help we can get. These sorts of battles tend to leave few unharmed, so there will be more work than we'll have hands to get the work done."

Holly nodded once sharply. "I'll be growing a healing garden, then. One made of healing herbs and trees, I think. I've already have three willow saplings for willow bark tea, as well as peppermint, feverfew, and some others. It won't take me long to trade for whatever you use the most." She gave him a look, "And I'll definitely get some kingsfoil."

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Bard hadn't thought that he would end up running Dale, or at least everything to do with everyone in Lake Town hiding from Smaug in Dale. He was up to his armpits in details of things that he'd never had to consider before, such as how to move and store every bit of food that could be preserved for the town. At least the grain stores were easy. Several large grain storage towers had been found still intact, probably because they were more deep than they were tall. They'd been Dwarf made, that was obvious, and there was still grain safely stored in there. 

At least he'd thought it would be easy. It turned out that although the grain still stored there looked fine, it wasn't. Something in it killed the sourdough starters in town. No matter how little of the old grain was used, the breads looked and tasted ghastly. No one could even stomach a single bite. Bard had finally gone to Tauriel to find out if she could have one of the Elven healers look at the bread. Honestly, it had been a long shot, but it had unfortunately paid off.

Smaug had poisoned the wheat.

The Elves hadn't been able to do anything about it, but there it was. The wheat stored in the old towers needed to be burned. It had taken nearly a month of hard work just to clear the towers out, and the most sensitive of the healers had come to look at the towers. Lastriel had done something. He couldn't figure out just what she had done, but dismissed it as Elven magic.

"You'll need a Holbytla to fix this," Lastriel said as she turned and walked out of the last tower. "I haven't seen one since they all departed over the Misty Mountains centuries ago, but they were good at healing damage like this. The dragon has spent his poison into the ground and the rock; that includes the rock the town is built out of."

Bard cursed quietly. Tauriel patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, this has been thought of," she said.

"What do you mean?" Bard asked, hoping that there was some miracle that would save their harvest, even if it was a near fairy tale person only the size of a small child. "They're only a child's tale now, to my people at least." He bowed to Lastriel. "I know better than to say something that you have seen is not real, but we have no way to contact them, even if they'd come. Or let us know where they were in the first place so that we could ask."

"Hobbits, as they call themselves now," Tauriel smiled, "are very much real people. One came with the Dwarrow last time, and the Green Lady has said that she'll be sending more this time to settle near here. Bilbo Baggins, Dragon Riddler, was the Hobbit's name. It will no doubt take time, but they will heal the land of the poison."

"Dragon Riddler?" Bard goggled at the idea that someone the size of his Tilda, or even smaller, would speak with a dragon and live.

Tauriel nodded. "Oh yes, it was quite the feat. He never knew, but they built a statue of him speaking with Smaug to immortalize the deed. Pray do not do so again. What I know of him would have him turning as red as his beloved tomatoes."

"Holbytlan are farmers," Lastriel said as Bard raised his eyebrow at Tauriel's description. "They are not ones who put themselves forward or make grand schemes. They love the earth and all growing things. There isn't one out there alive who doesn't grow something in the name of Yavanna. They were created for the task of healing such wounds to the land as Smaug has done by the Green Lady, so they worship her as their maker. They'll be able to set this to rights, never fear that."

Bard bowed to the healer. "I bow to your greater wisdom, Healer Lastriel. The problem becomes what to do in the meantime?"

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The days had become an endless round of training in sword work and archery, followed by sewing, followed by helping her Da teach the women of the town how to fend off an Orc. Most of the women did not want to learn how to fight, although a few had begun to understand just what it was that she and her Da were trying to do. Orcs were the worst, if one did not count trolls, that would be coming. If they burst through the city walls the way they did last time, no amount of huddling in the dark would save them.

It was Hilda, the midwife, who got it first. "Eru!" she cursed when Sigrid had finally snapped and told them all off. (She'd been trying very hard to respect these women. They were her elders after all.) "How many of the town were left when all was said and done when you went through this in your last life?"

Sigrid froze and shuddered. The memory haunted her still. Lake Town had a population of nearly three thousand people. "Of the Men, we lost all but one hundred and thirty. Of the women and children, only three hundred survived until Spring. Most of them were lost to Smaug's fire. The remainder were lost to Orcs, wound fever, and starvation." Even as bad as her battle dreams had been, her worst nightmares had always been of the dragonfire and the Battle of Five Armies. "We rebuilt of course, but it took years and many of our girls married Men who came to settle here when it was known that Erebor was in Dwarrow hands again. Tilda married a trader, and his family moved to Dale for the market."

"And you?" one of the women asked snidely, as the rest were busy gasping and trying to deny the numbers.

"My soul-mate is a Dwarf. He died in the battle with the Orcs. I only knew him a short time before he died, but this time I'm not about to let that happen again. I'll fight at his side, and I'll marry him before the battle as well. I'd rather be his widow than to have never had him at all," Sigrid said firmly. 

"You're certain?" Hilda asked gently.

Sigrid nodded. "Dwarrow find their Ones by sight, Elves find their Heart's Ease by conversation, and Holbytlan find their Soul-Match by touch according to Tauriel. Fili knew me at once. I was too young to court but he knew me." She glared at them all. "I'm marrying him anyway. I don't care that I'm too young again. I've only one chance and I'll not waste it!"

"Good for you," Hilda said firmly. "If you've got that certainty, you definitely should not waste it. Now, I know that you've been working on your dower chest, what are you planning on for your bridal gift?"

"Robes for his uncle. He never mentioned a father, but his mother lives in the Blue Mountains, near the sea. His uncle will do for a stand in for her, and he'll need the robes I hope," Sigrid said.

"Ah! So that's why you bought all that expensive fabric!" Hilda exclaimed happily. "They'll be fine enough for the richest merchant when you're done."

Sigrid sighed. "I'm hoping that they'll be good enough for a king. Fili's the Crown Prince of Erebor, his uncle's heir."

"So you're setting your sights on the crown prince?" another woman scoffed.

Sigrid drew herself up proudly. "Whether you remember it or not, Donna, I am of the royal house of Dale. I am Girion's direct descendant. My father could claim Dale when all is said and done, and have it by right of lineage. Why do you think the Men have been working on repairing that windlance? There were no arrows left in Dale for it. My father has the last, handed down from Girion's son to his own son and on down."

"So that's why you put the thrush on your chest," Hilda said. "I'd wondered. I know that it is the symbol of your line, but why the stars?"

"That's the symbol of Fili's line, that of Durin the Deathless, First of the Seven Fathers of Dwarrow," Sigrid said. "Fili is his direct descendant, and his uncle is the head of the Longbeard clan as well as King under the Mountain. It means that Fili and I are a good match though. With Erebor taken over by Smaug, their people have been scattered and Fili has had to work as much as Da does to survive. We both know our people from being one of them, being treated as common as any other." 

"She's right, Donna! She's of royal blood, although that means little here and now. It will mean a lot later though," another woman said. "And why shouldn't Bard claim Dale for his own? He's worked hard enough for it. He's doing his best to make certain that we survive this Autumn and Winter. Why he could have gone and done nothing! Taken his children and run off to the Elves! They'd shelter him. He's going to make a fine king, and with an alliance marriage between his eldest and the crown prince, well, that'll do us a great deal of good."

The women began murmuring in approval, but Sigrid tried to get them back to work. "That's for later, right now we all need to make certain we can survive the battle. With the Men off fighting, you'll be the ones protecting the old and the children. Let's make certain that you can do so."

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Elrond looked up at Mirkwood and shuddered. He could feel the evil of the Enemy, reaching out and twisting the woods into a vile and sick place. They wouldn't be approaching it for some time yet, as they had to go to Lorien to gather up Galadriel's army, but he still had no wish to actually set foot in there. He would do so of course, because that was what was necessary. That did not mean he had to like it, although he was wise enough to keep his thoughts to himself. 

"We shall be there soon enough, Elrond," Galadriel said. "For now, simply rejoice that we will soon be reunited with Arwen."

Elrond had to smile at that. His daughter had been living in Lorien for some time now, spending time with her grandmother and learning things that she had not thought to ask his wife before she had sailed. "I do thank you for mentoring her. She still has not found her Heart yet?"

"No, but there is always Thranduil's people. He has four sons, and they are all more like their mother than their father," Galadriel said. "Lamaenor has been studying with us for some time now, and although he and Arwen are not each other's Heart's Ease, they do get along splendidly. I would not be opposed if one of his brothers turns out to be her Heart."

"As long as she finds an ellon who treats her as she deserves, I will be happy for her," Elrond swore. "I just wish that he would make himself known!"


	21. Chapter 21

July 10

Running. There was far too much running for Bilbo's tastes. Probably because he wasn't allowed to do any of it. In spite of the humiliation, he was carried, and only set down when they grabbed a few hours of sleep at daybreak. They were staying ahead of the Orcs for now, but every evening they could hear the Wargs howling. They could not break their trail enough for the Wargs to be confused and lose them. 

It was when they'd finally reached the Carrock that the Orcs caught up with them. If they had been mounted, it would have never have happened. As it was, they weren't and the Orcs were, and so they were caught. Side by side they stood, even as Thorin tried to tuck Bilbo away behind Glorfindel, (Bilbo was having none of it and jabbed Thorin in the side whenever he tried), Azog finally made his appearance.

Bilbo hadn't learned the Black Speech, the language of Orcs and Mordor. He was a scholar. He loved languages and had learned as many of the free people's languages as he could, but the Black Speech was repugnant in every respect. So when Azog began his little speech, Bilbo decided to get cheeky. (It was better than throwing a fit which is what he wanted to do. This was no time to let his anger at the Orc get the better of him. It was far better to make Azog angry instead.) And so, he began to 'translate' for those who may or may not know the Black Speech. 

Of course, he had absolutely no real clue about what Azog was saying - although he could make a good guess. However, that would not suit his purposes. Instead he piped up when Azog was finished speaking - "Oh there you are my Darling! How I have longed to see your beautiful face again! When you removed my arm, you stole my heart as well! Your delicate form races through my dreams, drenched in blood and the gore of your enemies! A more ravishing sight I have never seen!"

Bilbo was looking at Azog, who was staring in amazement that such a little creature would have the nerve to say such things, and so did not realize that he was the center of attention for both groups. It took Dwalin trying to smother a snort for him to realize that he was making progress. "Surrender to the might of Sauron, and I will make you his general, for I am helpless before your mighty warrior's prowess! My love for you burns like an Elvish city laid to waste! I shall lay a thousand Elves at your feet if you will just be mine!"

Bilbo turned towards Thorin. "I don't think that you should agree to that. It might make Lord Elrond upset. He doesn't have enough Elves as it is. I think he needs a little Hobbitish help in that area." That did it. Half of the Elves were grinning, (mostly at the thought of Azog trying to woo Thorin), and the Dwarrow were cracking up at the thought of Bilbo giving Elrond bedroom tips.

Azog roared something that sounded even more vile than before and his Orcs attacked. Bilbo had his bow up and shooting the moment the first Warg made a move. Like the last time he faced down Azog's troops his targets were eyes. Warg eyes, Orc eyes, it did not matter. One arrow through an eye and into a brain resulted in a dead creature of Sauron. Unfortunately it didn't last long, and soon the entire thing was a chaotic mess. 

Bilbo, knowing that he was at a disadvantage being the smallest of everyone, ducked down even further, slashing at Orc knees and ankles with Sting. One Orc actually tripped over him, making the Orc an easy target for one of the others. (Biblo didn't see who, he was too busy trying to catch his breath back while jabbing an Orc in the unmentionables.) The entire encounter was little more than giant legs as far as he was concerned, at least until he heard a familiar roar.

"Beorn!" he whispered, whipping his head about to try and see the giant skinchanger. To his surprise, he also heard hoof beats. Whatever or whoever Beorn had brought with him was too much for the Orcs. They broke and ran. Not that it made much difference to Bilbo, he still couldn't see considering he was surrounded by too tall legs. "EXCUSE ME!" he called, pushing at several Elvish knees. 

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Thorin had known that his One had a vicious streak. A very respectable, and polite vicious streak, but a vicious streak nonetheless. He also knew that Bilbo would always choose words as his first weapon. He'd seen that numerous times both on their failed quest and since his return to life. Bilbo's dealings with his hated relatives the Sackville-Baggins was merely the smallest example of that. That being said, he never would have guessed that Bilbo would taunt Azog like this. 

Translating a threat to end his life into an Orkish love poem? Turning an order to bring Thorin's head to Azog into a infatuated bribe? Ordering the deaths of his sister-sons becoming an offer of a tribute of dead Elves? And where oh where did Bilbo come up with the idea of Elrond needing to learn how to father children???? Admittedly, that one was funny considering that Elrond's sons were right here, but still!

"You are truly a wonder," Thorin said, as he pushed an Elf aside to find Bilbo fuming at a sea of Elvish knees. (Bilbo was standing at the bottom of a small hollow in the ground which lowered him in relation to the Elves even further than usual.) "What ever possessed you to taunt Azog like that?" Of course Thorin knew that he himself wasn't going to be able to live down Bilbo's version of Azog's demands, not with the way Dwalin was laughing his head off, but it was worth it just to see Bilbo at work.

Bilbo made a rude noise. "I was angry, and I decided to make him even angrier. If my translation makes things more difficult for him, all the better."

"Do you know what he was saying?" Thorin asked.

"Haven't a clue," Bilbo dismissed the idea without a concern as he was finally able to get free from his (probable), unintentional confinement. "That doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's going to have trouble with the Orcs that heard what I said. I have no doubt that even Orcs have gossips, and the more he tries to squash what happened here, the more they will spread it around. All of which means more trouble for someone I hate with a great deal of passion."

It was such a Hobbitish way of thinking that Thorin laughed out loud. Of course Bilbo had thought that the worst thing he could do to Azog was to unleash gossips on him. "Are you injured?" he asked, looking Bilbo over. The Hobbit looked ruffled more than anything, but he wasn't going to take things for granted.

"A bit bruised," Bilbo admitted. "At least one Orc tripped over me, and I think that others ran into me, but I have no idea just who they might have been. It was all a muddle to me I'm afraid."

"Most times of battle are," Thorin admitted. "Come, Beorn brought the Elves with him when they told him what was likely to happen to us. He wasn't too sure that they were being honest, but he's convinced now. A day's ride and we'll be at his home."

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The lower passes were supposed to be safe, or at least safer for such a large caravan than the higher passes of the Misty Mountains. Fortunately they were most of the way through the mountains when the caravan was attacked. Rukuc had taken to marching near his One's family group, mostly to get to know his One, and was therefore thankfully with Holly when the goblins attacked. 

Rukuc, and honestly most of the other Dwarrow in the caravan, had expected the Hobbits to be useless in battle. He really should have known better. Holly had shown him how effective their conkers were and most of the Hobbits were armed with bows. The moment the sun went down and the goblins poured down the mountainside from whatever hole they'd crawled out of, arrows from both the Rivendell Elves and the Hobbits filled the air. Rukuc couldn't swear to it, but he thought that not a single arrow missed it's mark. 

"KEEP MOVING!!" sounded out from somewhere along the line of wagons as more armed Elves, Dwarrow and even Hobbits came charging back from the front of the line. It looked like only those who were driving the wagons stayed where they were. Rukuc knew that they were armed as well so there wasn't any need to worry about attacks to the front of the caravan.

"Nasty creatures," muttered Holly as she stood on top of the seat of her cart. She had a sling in her right hand and what looked to be several dark rocks in her left. A sack of them sat at her feet. 

"You any good with that?" Rukuc asked, pulling his axe off of his back and moving to the other side of the cart. If the goblins made it this far, he wanted to make certain that they could not reach her.

Holly sniffed. "When will you learn that a Hobbit's aim is not to be questioned?" she asked. "I've hunted for the pot ever since I was a faunt. I prefer my conker, but a sling is just as good for something you don't want to get close to." She swayed with ease as the cart shifted under her feet, her cows continuing to follow the cart before them. 

It wasn't ideal. Normally they would not travel at night, both because of the inherent dangers and because the animals grew tired and few wanted to pull anything when they could not see where to put their feet. Nevertheless, they had to continue as there was no choice. Until they drove the goblins off, and the sun came up, they were vulnerable here in the mountains. Fortunately the moon was full, and so they could see their attackers clearly. Moon dark was the worst time for an attack.

With his off hand Rukuc scooped up rocks that would fit into her sling and placed them at her feet. Holly wielded no bow, but he could see that more than one conker hung from her pockets. She was as armed as she was going to get. The goblins continued to attack, and when they began to get through the flights of arrows, those Hobbits who had slings began to use them.

Rukuc was simply waiting for his chance to engage the enemy, not wanting to leave Holly's side, when Holly began singing, even as she flung stones two at a time. It spread from one Hobbit to the next like a firestorm, and Rukuc could feel a clean, clear breeze blowing towards the goblins. Rukuc didn't know the language that the Hobbits were singing in. Most Hobbit songs were sung in Westron, but this sounded old, perhaps ancient, and was most definitely not Elvish, Westron or Mahal forbid, Khuzdul. It had to be their own language. The effects of the song however, were very apparent. 

Not only did a cleansing breeze appear, but also a wave of green, the ground below turning a warm, rich brown. Saplings sprung up, skewering goblins as they did so. Grass thrust up among goblin feet and tangled them so that they fell down and, (although Rukuc would not swear to it), appeared to smother the goblins. Vines wrapped them up like bugs in a spider's web, and other things that Rukuc could not see. It was not immediate, but it was swift. 

Not all of the goblins became tangled up in the greenery. Those that did not, soon reached the caravan and Rukuc was glad to finally be of use. His axe made easy work of turning the goblins that reached him into mincemeat. It was a strange battle, even without the Green Lady's hand, (Rukuc couldn't even begin to think that this was anything else!), involved in it. Rukuc had been involved in battles before, and had even retreated a time or two to regroup, but he had never fought walking backwards before - especially as the way back was the way forward. 

Nevertheless, as his One's wagon was one of the last ones in the caravan Rukuc wasn't about to let any goblins get past him to her. Step by step Rukuc and the other warriors worked their way backwards covering the caravan as it left the mountains. The Elf to his left swung his knives high, mostly killing the goblins who thought it a good idea to launch themselves at the caravan. The Hobbit to his left, (he thought it might have been Turpin, but he wasn't sure as he didn't have time to actually look), went low with a staff, breaking goblins bones at every opportunity. He took the rest, cleaving the goblins into pieces.

It wouldn't be until much later, as he and the other healers patched up idiots who hadn't bothered to be sensible about the fight that he learned that many of the Hobbits had taken farming tools to the goblins; one Dwarrow bragging that his One had used a scythe to cut goblins in half from her stance on the back of one of the ore wagons. All in all, they were lucky they hadn't lost anyone, although the amount of injuries was worrisome. Rukuc was blaming that one on the Green Lady. If she hadn't interfered, there was no telling how many of them would have made it to sunrise. As for those who had brought their situation to the Green Lady's attention, the Hobbit's Land Healers, well most of them slept for the next three days.

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It was Calithildir, the Crown Prince of the Woodland realm, rather than Calithildir, Legolas' elder brother who called a meeting with both his father's council and with the leaders of various trades from around the realm. He sat at the head of the council table, his younger brothers Legolas and Lameanor behind and to each side of him. Tauriel stood next to Legolas. They made an intimidating sight to those who were not used to seeing their royals in person, or so close at hand.

"This council will come to order. Welcome all of you. For those of you who do not know, my father is taking a healing treatment. He will return to his duties in two days if the healers permit," Calithildir said as he gestured for everyone to take a seat at the table. "As all of you know, we have been blessed with a Twice-Born. The Men of Lake Town have also been so blessed, as witnessed by my brother, Legolas and Captain Tauriel. We have been working with the Men to ensure that their warning is heeded. This Autumn Smaug will awaken and be killed. That we have little to do with. It is Thorin Oakenshield and his Company who will take the risk and suffer the consequences if they do not manage the task. If they fail, it will fall to the Men and we have been told that the Men will be able to complete that task."

Calithildir took a sip of wine to let the Elves assimilate that news. "We have been warned because there are two armies of Orcs coming. One will come from the South. The other will come from Gundabad. This means that our realm will be the least affected by their travel. However, we cannot simply leave the Men and Dwarrow to defend Erebor, which is their goal. If we do, we will be surrounded by Orcs and other such pests on all sides as the Men will be slaughtered as will the Dwarrow, and they will not ignore us as we have ignored most of Middle Earth for the last several centuries." He looked up at the councilors. "Please do remember that the current King of the Longbeards is the grandson of Thror and his sister-sons are great-grandsons. It's taking a grudge too far to place the blame of Thror's greed on them. We will be allies with the Dwarrow of Erebor once more." 

"What remains of the Enemy is currently living in Dol Guldur. He is the reason that our Greenwood is now the Mirkwood. The White Council will be dealing with that. Our job at this time is to defend Erebor, to defeat these armies that have begun to march. We will be joining the Dwarrow in this, along with the Men of Lake Town. This is why my father has begun to muster our army. Every warrior who can still draw bow or heft spear will be marching to Erebor. Every healer that we have will be joining with the army when we march," Calithildir swept the room with his eyes. "There will be no exceptions. Every weapon we can bring to bear will not match the numbers we will be facing."

The Elves shifted in their seats but bowed their heads to accept what Calithildir was telling them. Not a few glanced at Tauriel, standing beside Legolas. The fact that she did not contradict anything that Calithildir had told them seemed to be enough for them. "My Prince," one of the Elves stood up. "May I ask how I and my people can be of help? We are not warriors or healers."

"Braig," Calithildir nodded at him. "I am glad to see that you still lead the farmers. I need you to do two things. The first is that you and your people harvest everything you can. Let nothing go to waste. Send your people out into the forest with guards to forage things that you would normally leave for the rest of the forest, especially medicines. I will leave what and how much up to you. You know our forest gardens far better than I. The second is that once the harvest is in, gather all of our animals and the people who cannot fight together. You will be in charge of them while we are away with the army." He gestured to the council, most of whom seemed startled at the thought of going with the army. "I said everyone who can pull bow or hold spear, Councilors. I meant that. The Orcs will have thousands upon thousands. We must muster up everyone that we can, hunter or warrior. Our very survival depends on it."


	22. Chapter 22

To Bard's relief, Legolas had an answer to 'what now?'. "This used to be one of our villages, back when we had trade with Dale and Erebor," Legolas said, gesturing towards a patch of the forest. To Bard's eye it didn't look like much, a few buildings here and there, all of which looked like they were a part of the forest itself. "You'll find that most of the buildings are sunk into the ground, Dwarrow built, much like the palace. None of our people live here anymore. There was an Orc attack several hundred years ago, the few survivors were moved to a safer location. The Orcs never returned, but..." Legolas shrugged.

Bard nodded in sympathy. "Your people will not mind our using this place to store our harvest then?" he asked, although the answer was obvious. Legolas would not be showing them the old village if it were not acceptable. 

"No, and you should have enough room to store everything you need. The buildings are empty, and if any of your people are truly too frightened to stay in Dale, they could come here to wait things out," Legolas offered.

Bard rolled his eyes thinking about certain Men, namely Alfrid, who had been cronies of the late and unlamented Master of Lake Town. "There certainly are those who want nothing to do with what's going on in Dale," he admitted, thinking to himself, 'namely the work.' "Fortunately we've had more traders come in lately. The former Master's...er, growth of the treasury means that we've been able to buy up more food for this Winter, not to mention more supplies of things like salt for preserving our fish and meat. With the deadfall from the forest we should be able to smoke more meat and cheese as well."

"Smoked cheese?" Legolas perked up like a hound catching a rabbit's scent. "Do you mean goat's cheese or cow's cheese?"

Bard laughed. "Lake Town's farmers are few, but they make both. I take it you would not mind a trade of cheese for use of the village?"

Legolas twitched. "I would not put a price on your people's survival, and this is necessary for that. However, I would personally trade for some of that cheese if you have any to spare."

Bard grinned and headed towards one of the buildings to check it over for any damage it might have taken in the years since that Orc attack. "I have no doubt that Saemund or Gellir would be more than happy to have you as a customer, Prince Legolas. They and their wives have stalls in the market place. I'm certain that Sigrid could show you which ones are theirs."

Legolas blushed a bit. "Cheese in any form is something of a rarity here in the Woodland," he admitted. "We don't have milking animals as such. The last time I had some of the smoked cheeses was at the last feast I attended in Erebor. That was some... four hundred years ago? Something like that, it was before Thror went mad. That cheese was the best of the things I tried that night."

Bard frowned. That was something that no one had talked about, the madness of the last Dwarrow king. "Do you think it will happen again? The madness, I mean?" he asked. He could not help but think of the prophecy that had been handed down in Lake Town since the dragon destroyed Dale.

Legolas shook his head. "Tauriel said that the madness was part of what went wrong last time, everyone who went near the mountain fell to it, even we Elves. Aule has promised that the Company of Dwarrow who are coming will not be touched by it, but after? It is something to worry about," he said grimly. "The king was the only one affected before the dragon, but dragons make such things much worse. That is why stories are told of curses on dragon's hoards. Anyone can be affected by the dragon's malice, not just Dwarrow, but it is the same thing that poisoned the grain and keeps anything from growing in the desolation . I can only hope that having more than a single Hobbit will be able to heal the damage and prevent more madness from happening."

Bard sighed, but accepted what Legolas was saying - that he and the people of Lake Town were just as likely to catch the madness if the Hobbits could not do anything about it. "Well, at least we Men will not likely be invited into the mountain for all that we will fight before her gates."

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Beorn's home was a haven, simply put. He wasn't used to visitors and the unusual animals there, ones that Bilbo was certain were more skinchangers, were definitely wary of having so many other people around, but that did not detract from their hospitality. He had been informed by the Elves that Thorin, Bilbo, Fili and Kili were Twice-born, and had been through the quest once before, and had set down with them to get the story of the time that they alone had lived through. Bilbo, knowing the large man was more interested in the story than the simple facts, wove the tale as best as he could.

Fortunately, Beorn loved the tale and he loved it all the more because as far as he was concerned he was the hero of it. Knowing that he had been the one to take Azog's head off in the end was all that was needed to gain his cooperation. He agreed to contact all of those in his lands who had reason to hate Orcs and let them know that they would be coming to do battle, including the Great Eagles. Bilbo was thankful that Beorn had told them that and that he did not have to ask. It was worth enduring Beorn's rant about Orcs and their atrocities. Not that Bilbo disagreed, but the skinchanger did get rather graphic.

"We're making good time," Thorin said, as he joined Bilbo in Beorn's gardens. The Dwarf obviously didn't have a clue what Bilbo was doing there, but he didn't mind. Thorin was willing to spend time doing something that was completely out of his normal areas of interest simply because Bilbo was interested. It was enough. 

"Oh yes," Bilbo agreed, happily harvesting some carrots for dinner. He handed Thorin the basket he was holding and moved over to the onions. "We have to decide whether or not to push on, but with the Elves here I'm not certain that we'll have difficulties with moving through Mirkwood to get to the palace."

Thorin sighed. "That is one thing that I am not looking forward to. I still have no love for Thranduil. I cannot forget seeing him with his army turn their backs on our fleeing people. To refuse to face a dragon, that I have come to accept is not cowardice, especially as he has faced such before, but for him to turn his back on us!" He hissed, and thumped his thigh with his fist. "I still cannot let it go."

Bilbo frowned. "What are you going to do?" he asked. A great deal of what had to happened depended on getting Thranduil to cooperate.

Thorin sighed and shook his head. "I will let Kili deal with him. My heart is still too full of anger for any diplomacy. Kili is young enough that he does not have that memory and his One is an Elf. That will help, I have no doubt. As long as I do not have to face Thranduil myself, I think that I can deal with his people. Elrond's people aren't too bad."

Bilbo smiled. That was a great deal better than before when Thorin would rage against dealing with any Elf. "That will be enough," he promised. "You have looked at a child's memory and seen it with adult eyes. No one can ask for more than that. Now, let's get these to the kitchen." He gestured with the onions in his hands. They, like everything else around Beorn's home, was far larger than anything he could have found in the Shire. Perhaps once things were settled down he could trade Beorn for some seeds. It would certainly make for an interesting conversation piece at the harvest fair!

Once in the kitchen he and Bombur began making supper for everyone. Thorin sat in a corner, watching as the two did their best to maneuver around a kitchen made for someone nearly four times their size. Bilbo knew very well that it was a bit comical, but being able to work in a kitchen at all was a blessing right now. He'd spent too long on the road and it still wasn't over yet. Admittedly, his trip to Mordor would undoubtedly be worse, but he was refusing to think about that now. He had enough on his plate as it was.

Beorn's summer kitchen was a three sided structure, one that had a fireplace large enough to accommodate him. A large table ran down the center with plenty of room on all sides, and shelves took up the rest of the space. Bilbo stood on a stool chopping vegetables and watching the rest of the Company. Dori, Ori and Kili were mending clothing, mostly that which had gotten ripped or slashed in the mountains or the trip to Beorn's. Running through the woods was hard on clothing. Dwalin was working in the forge, set at 90 degrees from the kitchen. He was probably making arrowheads. Fili was helping. Gloin was having a conversation with Glorfindel, something about axe work if the gestures that Gloin was making were taken as evidence. Bofur and Bifur were carving something, probably arrow shafts, along with most of the Elves. 

It seemed that every day more and more of the Company was getting along better with the Elves. Perhaps it was the prospect of facing off against a mutual enemy, perhaps it was the raid that they'd made together, but the result was quite pleasing. Bilbo had no doubt that, if everything went to plan, things would continue to improve between the two groups. Perhaps Gimli and Legolas, and Kili and Tauriel would not have such a hard time after all.

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Four thousand Elven warriors and nearly a thousand Elven healers marched on Dol Guldur. Two wizards accompanied them, and while Elrond was more than pleased with their numbers, he was not happy that Arwen was among them. Their reunion had been a joyful one, and they had spent many hours talking about all that she had learned in her time away from Rivendell. He had meant to leave his only daughter in Lothlorien when they marched. She refused.

Arwen had gently, (and stubbornly, really she was far too much like her mother at times and didn't that thought make Elrond's heart ache), informed him that as a healer, although admittedly not as experienced as many, she had more than enough experience to help heal those who would be injured in the battles to come. He really did not want her to be exposed to the harsh realities of a true battle, but he had to concede that her skills would be needed. In truth, every hand would be needed once the battle was over. That did not mean that he wished for his daughter to see the result of a battle worked on the flesh of the free peoples. 

Arwen did not care. She rode her mare quietly with the other healers, surrounded by the warriors for their protection. It was not the first time Arwen had reminded Elrond of her mother, nor was it the first time that she had chosen a position that he had not wished her to take. It was however, the first time she had done so in order to take a place in a situation where she might be harmed. As a lord, Elrond could see that she was right in her decision, and the fact that the decision was hers and hers alone. As a father however, he fretted over the chance that she could end up harmed by that decision. He wanted her no where near the Orcs or Eru forbid, Sauron.

"Ada," Arwen said with a light laugh as they rode together towards Dol Guldur. "I will be fine. I am staying with the healers. I will not go out onto the battlefield to bring back wounded warriors to be treated. I will be one of those doing the treating. I have treated those who have fought Orcs before. I know what wounds can be inflicted while dealing with such filth. I also know that it will be worse than anything I have ever seen before, simply because there will be so many wounded - but how can I turn my back on our warriors who have given of themselves so? How can I turn away Men or Dwarrow who have stood against the darkness, only to be injured?"

Elrond sighed. "You cannot, I know this. Arwen, it is only my father's heart that fears for you. I know that you are a talented healer, one who in time may even surpass me. I simply wish that you did not have to experience such a terrible thing as cleaning up after a true battle."

"As long as there are Orcs and evil grows, then healers will be needed to heal that which they try to tear asunder, Ada," she pointed out. "I will not turn my back on the gifts that Eru has given me, thus I will have to learn this sooner or later."

Elrond sighed. "No, you don't have to learn this," he told her. "Bilbo Baggins told me that our people will all return to Valinor before this century ends."

"And there will be a true war in that time, Ada," Arwen said sternly. "Do you think that Sauron will be defeated without one? I will not hide when the time comes. If I can save even one of the free people from the Halls of Mandos, heal them so that they may remain with their family, I will count that as a good and just cause."

Elrond sighed again. "Your mother would be proud of you, as I am," he admitted. "Please stay inside the mountain. Promise me that at least?"

"I will," Arwen swore.

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Gimli had heard the Elves talking about the group that was marching on Dol Guldur. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Oh, he knew the why. Sauron himself was supposed to be there, what was left of him. Those with the strongest magics were going to send him packing back to Mordor, but still.... Sauron! The Enemy of all, First Student of Melkor! The greatest evil of their Age, and a band of Elves was going to confront him. It was enough to declare them all mad, if they hadn't been taking so many warriors with them. Who knew how many Orcs lay in wait in the old fortress?

Honestly Gimli wouldn't mind getting in on that action himself. He'd not been able to do anything when the goblins attacked the caravan because the cowards had attacked them from the rear. His wagon was in the front, and it had been his duty to lead it and the rest of the caravan out of the mountains. He'd been so disappointed when not even a single goblin had managed to make it to him for his axe to cleave. 

Still, they were headed for Mirkwood, the home of the traitor Thranduil, and if Master Baggins was to be believed, home of his One. That was an even bigger obstacle to get his head around. The prince part Gimli had no trouble with. His playmates from the time he had been a pebble had been Fili and Kili, so his One's rank was nothing to him. The fact that he was an Elf was a much bigger problem in Gimli's mind. Even worse was the fact that his One was Thranduil's youngest son.

Nevertheless, Mahal had sent them on this quest to regain their homeland, and his wife, the Green Lady had sent her Hobbit children to help them. So many of the Dwarrow in the caravan had found their Ones in her children, and Mahal had created an Elven One for Kili - had even crafted a set of marriage beads for him as proof. Was it really all that hard to believe that Mahal had done the same for him? After all, he had overheard what had happened in the vision Mahal had sent his cousins. They had died in the battle that was coming. 

With Kili dead, and honestly it was still a possibility as there were no promises in battle, would it be up to Gimli to make the alliance marriage with the Elves? A child of Men was easy to craft, so Mahal would have no problems replacing Fili's marriage should that be necessary, and with how very many Ones had been found among the Hobbits, that was assured as well. Elves on the other hand, that had to be difficult, both with how long they lived and with how different Dwarrow and Elves were. Crafting a match between the two had to take a great deal of planning, and what craftsman placed all of his hopes on a single forging? No, it was far better to ensure that there were at least two couples who could do the job.

Still, Gimli was well, not nervous, but he certainly was not settled in the matter. He had never thought that any of the Elves he had seen before to be attractive. They were far too stretched out and beardless besides, but.... well, this Elf prince was supposed to be his One. If that is true, then he supposed the Elf's looks would not matter to him in the end. After all, look at his friend Grel. He was a good Dwarf, but his looks were some of the worst, and yet his One could not care less. That was what would probably happen with Gimli. After all, his father had told him that it would take time for him to see the prince as his One, as happened some times. If it took time, then he would have the time to get used to it. Gimli nodded to himself. Probably for the best.


	23. Chapter 23

Dol Guldur looked abandoned. It was supposed to, Gandalf knew, but when he used his other senses to search for the evil that should be there, the Orcs rather than Sauron, he could not find much. A bit of stench here, a bit there, which meant to him that there were few, if any, Orcs in the area.

"They have gone to join the armies," Galadriel spoke. She glided by Gandalf, with Radagast following. "They will meet up with the army from the South, from Khazad-dum. They know not that we are coming to meet them."

"Good," muttered Radagast. The nature wizard had changed. No longer did animals hide among his robes, and for once he and his robes were clean. Gone was the distracted look of listening to the world of nature to the detriment of the world of the free peoples. There was a clarity to his gaze that had been missing for many decades. "The more we can surprise them the better."

"There are still dangers here," Gandalf warned. 

"There always are," Elrond said, drawing his sword. The Elf was the greatest healer that Middle Earth had ever known, but Gandalf knew that if he had never taken a life his abilities would have been that much greater. That was why he had insisted that Arwen, when she had proven she had a gift for healing equal to his own, be protected from having to make that choice. He was determined that she would not have to diminish herself. It grieved Gandalf that Elrond would have to make such a choice again, but he was proud that the Elf made it without a bit of hesitation. "Remember who was buried here."

"The Men call him the Necromancer," Radagast agreed. The four of them walked quietly, not trying for stealth. The fight they embarked on would not truly be of arms, but of magic. Swords would not be able to make much of a difference when they faced the Nazgul, for Sauron would never leave his most trusted servants trapped in their tombs. The wizards' staffs and Elrond's sword would only serve as a focus for their magics.

"!" Gandalf cried, calling on the magic of Narya, the Ring of Fire, given to him by Cirdan, the Shipwright. With a gesture from his staff, the veils that had cloaked Dol Guldur were swept away, showing several Orcs climbing out of the underground chambers.

"They are mine," Elrond said, sweeping forward. He was the least of those present and he knew it. He easily engaged the Orcs, sweeping through them.

An Orc tried for Galadriel hoping to catch her by surprise as they entered the courtyard. She merely glanced at him, and lazily waved a hand in his direction. The Orc crumbled to dust. From out of the darkness came a voice as dry as dust and empty as the grave. 

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,  
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,  
Nine for Mortal Men, doomed to die,  
One for the dark lord on his dark throne,  
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.  
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,  
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them,  
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."

As the voice spoke, the Eight of the Nine appeared, save only for the King-Witch of Angmar, spirit-wraiths armed with solid weapons, surrounding the White Council. "You cannot fight the Shadow," the voice proclaimed.

"I think not," came not from Galadriel or Gandalf strangely enough, but from Radagast. The three males formed a barrier between Galadriel and the Ringwraiths. "You lot should have accepted your fate."

"Staying dead would have been the smart thing to do," Elrond agreed, and attacked.

It was a strange battle, the Wraiths attacking as the Wizards wielded staff and Elrond his sword. One by one the Nazgul were knocked away, down the walls of Dol Guldur, only to reverse and climb back up to attack again. A staff or sword swung through the half-way seen dead warriors, dispersing the spirits only for them to reform and attack once more. Seeing this, the wizards and Elrond began channeling their power into their strikes, finally over powering the dead and sending them back - for the moment. For they all knew that until the One Ring was destroyed, nothing could truly send them back to true death.

That was when Sauron finally revealed himself, blasting out of one of the towers in the shape of a great eye of flame. All of them were blasted by the heat wave, but Galadriel stood firm. "IT HAS BEGUN. THE EAST WILL FALL. SO SHALL THE KINGDOM OF ANGMAR RISE. THE TIME OF THE ELVES IS OVER. THE AGE OF THE ORC HAS COME." Sauron said, the Black Speech sending shivers of revulsion through them.

That was when Galadriel called upon the full strength of Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. She rose from the center, washed out as a wraith, full of the power of water, and confronted Sauron. She lifted the vial she held in her right hand, one that contained the light of Earendil. The light contained within shown brightly, and the Ringwraiths, who had begun to reform fled from it. "You have no power here, servant of Morgoth!" she proclaimed.

The might of both magic wielders struggled against one another, wave after wave flooding the area around them. Gandalf, Radagast and Elrond were all knocked down to the ground, even as they did their best to bolster Galadriel. "You are nameless, formless! Go back to the Void from whence you came!" she cried, and with one final shove, Sauron gave way before her and fled South.

"He will return to Mordor," Elrond said, as he helped lift Galadriel to her feet from where she had fallen when Sauron fled. "Gondor and Rohan must be warned."

"I shall go," Radagast said. "But remember, he cannot be defeated until that one completes his quest."

The three of them nodded. They well remembered that only the destruction of the One Ring would destroy Sauron. "We will do our best to diminish Sauron's forces. That is the only thing we can do right now to help," Gandalf said. 

"Then I shall see you when you come to Gondor," Radagast promised.

The decision to split up Galadriel's forces was an easy one to make. Sauron might be gone, but his influence over the Mirkwood was still very much in evidence. Half of her forces would go to Rivendell, to meet up with the second caravan of Dwarrow and Hobbits. The rest would go with Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf to meet with the first caravan, who had by now passed through the mountain passes and would be headed for the Old Forest Road, which led straight through the Mirkwood.

The original plan had been to wait until they had an escort from Thranduil's people. Unfortunately they had underestimated the damage to the forest that Sauron's presence had inflicted. It was doubtful that the Wood Elves had even set foot anywhere near the Old Forest Road in decades, if not centuries. The only thing to do was to take the caravan through themselves. It was the only way to ensure that all of them arrived safely in Erebor after the dragon's death.

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Beorn's home was a wonderful place to recover from the injuries sustained during the raid on Goblin Town. However, recovery did not take long. The last time they had lost all of their supplies and it had taken several weeks to make new supplies. They hadn't needed to do that this time. All of their supplies had been loaded on the ponies and horses sent to Beorn's ahead of them. That meant that, as Thorin and Bilbo had discussed, they were ahead of schedule. 

After a great deal of discussion, they had decided to push on once all of the archers had full quivers as that was the one thing that they were almost out of. Beorn still loaded them down with food, and gave them extra water skins, warning them of the enchanted river that flowed through the forest, although this time he did not need to gift them with mounts. Bilbo, Thorin, Fili and Kili all warned the rest about the spiders and not to make a campfire for it would only bring down the giant moths upon them. Nevertheless, they were all almost eager to reach the forest, making camp right at the edge.

That was when Bilbo was presented with the most extraordinary sight he had yet seen in his long life. The morning that they were to enter the forest, Thorin and Fili very carefully washed Kili's hair. They then carefully braided new braids in the lad's hair - the twin braids down the side of the face and in front of the ears that both Thorin and Fili wore showing that they were of the line of Durin and in line for the throne, as well as three braids braided close to his skull on one side of his head and joining with a single braid on the opposite side at the back of his head. Where they joined was the clasp that was the twin to the one Fili wore at the back of his head and a single braid fell from the clasp. They then dressed him in an outfit that Dori had been working on for some time, one that was sturdy enough to trek through the forest in, but also elaborate enough to show that it was something a bit more than every day gear. 

The seven stars of Durin were displayed on every piece. Silvery threads were worked in geometric knots, creating lattices for showing off small gemstones. Bilbo didn't think that they were very valuable, after all the Blue Mountains were barely sustaining the Dwarrow there, but they were very pretty. Bilbo stood in front of Kili, tapping his foot and tapping his finger on his lips as Thorin and Fili each tied Kili's new vambraces on. "It needs a little something," he said.

Bilbo knew what was going on of course, although it was done with a certain amount of ceremony that he hadn't expected. (Then again Dwarrow were particular about their hair. No one but family could touch a Dwarrow's hair without it being a mortal offence. There had to be something that he was missing here simply because he wasn't Dwarrow himself, but that didn't matter in the end. It was enough that he knew this was Very Important.) Thorin and Fili were dressing Kili up to meet with Tauriel again. Well, that and for meeting with Thranduil, but mostly for meeting with his Elven One. He too, had prepared a little something for the event. "Now, I'm not very handy outside of the kitchen or my garden," Bilbo admitted. "But I am not above asking for help when I need it." From the grins on the faces of the Elves, and the Company, everyone but Kili knew what he was about.

Bilbo reached behind his back, and pulled something out of his pack. It was a cloth wrapped package, vaguely circular in shape. He held it up and unwrapped it, showing Kili a circlet made of silver. It had been made by an Elven smith at Bilbo's request, but it was in the style of a Hobbit flower crown, with small flowers growing from a base of knotwork. "Everlasting for always remembered," Bilbo said with a wink, referring to the fact that Kili had remembered Tauriel from before and was as besotted now as he was then. "Violet for faithfulness, Coreopsis for cheerfulness, Oak leaves for strength and to show that you are your uncle's representative, and finally Angrec for royalty in your own right. A Hobbit style flower crown in the metal of Dwarrow made by an Elven smith, rather representative of what I see in you. Wear it in good luck, Kili."

Thorin took the circlet and placed it carefully on Kili's head, making certain that it did not detract from nor did it muss Kili's new braids. "Now you look like the Dwarrow prince that you are," he said with satisfaction. "Wear these with pride and remember what they represent. You connect our people with the outside world. Their hopes and dreams rest on your shoulders," Thorin said grandly.

The Kili of before the quest would have blushed and stammered. The Kili of now simply bowed before his king. "I will remember, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain," he swore.

Thorin nodded. He and Fili had redone their hair as well, and put on their best travel clothing. Here it was Kili who was the important one, as he was the Dwarrow's ambassador to the Elves, and honestly Bilbo knew that Thorin would rather the Elves' eyes were on Kili rather than Fili or himself. Thorin had no wish to speak to Thranduil at all. He'd rather not even be in the same room as the Elvenking. Kili could make himself both diplomatic and respectful. Thorin on the other hand had admitted that not even the talk he'd had with Mahal would ever bring him to the point where he would not want to punch the Elf in the face, preferably with a warhammer. "Lead the way, Kili," he commanded and turned to mount his pony.

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The Hall of the Elvenking was filled with Elves. Normally they would be talking, listening to light music, and perhaps dancing. Nothing was normal at the moment. Elves ran from outside the hall to pass on messages and ran back out again with orders. Younger Elves sat sharpening arrowheads, whispering horror stories about the Orcs that were coming and others were fletching arrows for the archers. Braig was going over lists with the palace housekeeper, making certain that there was enough room for all of the harvest his people were bringing in. The head healer was looking over his shoulder, reading his lists of medicinal herbs and such. Elves were examining swords and knives that hadn't been used in battle in decades if not centuries. There was much to do to get ready.

No one bothered to notice one of the scouts running in. At least they didn't until said scout ran directly up to the throne. "My Liege! The Dwarrow have arrived at the entrance to the path!" he gasped out. He had run all the way from the edge of the forest. "My leader is holding them there until a response can be sent!" 

A hush settled over the hall. Tauriel straightened up from where she was reading a report on the scouts and their gear and approached the throne. She knelt down in front of Thranduil. "My Liege, the time has come. I ask that you release me from my vows at this time."

"Are you certain that you wish to do this Tauriel?" Thranduil asked. "Once done, it cannot be undone. You will no longer be a member of my house," he warned. "It may be centuries before you will be able to return to the Greenwood, and it would not be as you are now." The warning he was giving her was clear. She would no longer be a member of his house. He would no longer be protecting her. Rejecting his protection by leaving her position as Captain of the Guard also meant that he would no longer look favorably on her even when, or if, she returned. 

"I am certain," Tauriel said serenely. "My Heart comes, and my place in this battle is at his side." 

Thranduil ignored the murmurs of approval. That was a reason that none of the other Elves could fault her for. To turn your back on your Heart simply was not done, no matter your responsibilities. It was the one reason that he could not ignore or deny her request for release from her position, no matter that he did not want his household to change. At least if she was going to meet with her Heart's Ease then she would not be marrying Legolas as he had been concerned about. She was a Silvan, and far too beneath his son in rank to be worthy of him. "Very well then," he said. "You are dismissed. See to it that you survive the battle, and your Heart as well. I would meet the one who would take you from us."

Tauriel bowed again and raised a face that had an ear to ear grin. "Thank you, your majesty! I shall."


	24. Chapter 24

Kili was not nervous. He was not. It didn't matter that a patrol of Mirkwood Elves had stopped them from entering the forest, baring the path to the Elvenking's palace. It was a good thing that they were waiting for an escort to the palace. It meant that they wouldn't have to deal with the spiders - and perhaps the Orcs if they could stay out of the dungeons. Oh who was he trying to fool, he was nervous. Even having the Rivendell Elves with them didn't keep the butterflies out of his stomach at the idea of dealing with Thranduil by himself. Lord Elrond was a kitten in comparison.

Kili had thought that he had gotten used to Elves. He'd gotten along well with those in Rivendell, and of course he could not wait to see Tauriel again, but the Woodland scouts were stone faced in their determination that the Company and their Elves not go anywhere - not back to Beorn's, not forward into the forest. Not even having Glorfindel with them made any difference in the patrol's determination. No one was allowed to leave their camp until their escort got there.

Kili morosely joined Fili in grooming his horse. Fili had found a log onto which he had climbed in order to braid the horse's mane. Kili snickered. "Courting braids in a horse's mane, Fili? Something you want to tell me?"

Fili just rolled his eyes. "She's a courting gift, of course I'm going to put courting braids in her mane. If nothing else, it gives my hands something to do." He looked sideways at his brother. "And what of your courting gifts?" he asked. "No one has thought to mention them, save the Silvan tokens her customs call for, but I know Amad and Uncle would have your head if you did not have gifts for your One." He looked with significance at the pack at the mare's feet. His gifts had been a month's hard work from Thorin, and nearly two months for those he had crafted himself.

Kili sighed. "Of course I made gifts! They aren't finished though, because I need to get into Erebor's stores for some of it. Bilbo's mail shirt wasn't the only one in the mountain, I remember that."

Fili looked astonished. "You would gift her with mithril mail?" he whispered.

Kili looked pleased. "I already asked Uncle Thorin for some of the mail as part of my share of the treasure hoard. He agreed when I told him what I'm going to use it for. I'm going to layer it into the set of fighting leathers I made for her. She'll have better protection than mere leather armor for the battle. It won't take but a day or two to size them for her once Smaug is dead."

Fili smiled. "Our thoughts run the same shaft," he said. "I'll have to adjust the mail I made for Sigrid as well. Dwalin approved the sword and dagger set Uncle Thorin made for her based on what we both remember of her size, and Amad showed me how to make the hair sticks."

Kili looked wistful at the mention of the hair sticks. "Tauriel can not wear them, even if they are as beautiful as they are deadly. Her hair is too fine to be held by hair sticks."

Fili nodded. Elven hair was too fine for such adornment. "I'm thankful that Sigrid has thick braids from what I remember. She'll be able to wear proper adornment for Queen under the Mountain. Doesn't mean that you can't find a good way to decorate Tauriel's hair though. The tiniest of bells, perhaps, or maybe fine chains for formal occasions."

Kili's looks turned dreamy and Fili rolled his eyes. "She'll look beautiful with her hair covered in mithril chains with starlight gems, her hair glowing like the forge."

"KILI!!!!!!" came a shout from the forest, and an Elf maid ran straight through the camp to where Kili and Fili were talking beside the horse.

"Tauriel!" Kili breathed and ran towards her. The two met in the middle with a great crash, Tauriel falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her Dwarrow. "You remember me?" he asked, even as she kissed every inch of his face.

"You are here! You are here at last!" she babbled.

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Thorin rolled his eyes, only to get an elbow in the gut from Bilbo. "Young love is a terrible thing to witness," he told his One. "I'm glad that we were not so when we met again."

"They do not have anything but good memories of each other it seems," Bilbo said pointedly. "But I know what you mean. It's a bit unseemly, isn't it?" he said, as they watched the Elf maid and their nephew kiss between their tears.

"Oh, no," Thorin breathed, and wished to beat his head against a rock. "Kili, must you?" he asked without expectation. Kili was pulling the elleth's hair out of her braids, with the lady's hurried help in front of everyone. 

"Well, it seems that they aren't about to waste any time," Bilbo said with a grin. "Rather like his uncle, if you ask me."

"I have not put marriage braids in your hair," Thorin protested. "I am trying to court you properly!"

"And a very happy occasion it will be when we braid each other's hair at our wedding feast," Bilbo agreed. "Much better than on a battlefield or in a camp with everyone standing around staring." He looked pointedly around at where nearly everyone was doing just that. Dori and Balin were both fussing under their breath from the looks of them, and Fili had his head in his hands, muttering about idiot little brothers.

Thorin sighed, but went to still Kili's hands. The lass looked at him fearfully, but he pulled out the pendant that he had made for her. "You are both being too hasty. We have time to do this properly. BOMBUR!" he called. "Prepare a feast! Let us see these two wed properly as befits a Prince and Princess of Erebor!" He smiled at the relief that filled her face. "Nah, lass. You are welcome to our family, and to our halls, such as they are at the moment." He carefully placed the chain of the pendant around her neck. 

"Tauriel," came a voice filled with knowing disappointment. "You didn't let me ask him what his intentions were." A group of Elves came up to where Kili and Tauriel were frozen mid embrace. There was a hint of laughter in their faces.

Tauriel flushed. "I am no longer of the House of Thranduil," she protested.

"Nevertheless, you are the sister of our hearts," another Elf, one that Thorin finally recognized as Legolas, said. "We had every intention of interrogating him!" 

"And you spoiled that!" came from the last of the three Elves. "Here," he said, as he placed another pendant around Kili's neck. "It's not that you are a Dwarrow," he explained. "So much as it is that you are our sister's Heart. We would never try to stop her from joining with you, but we've a bit of a tradition in making a suitor sweat a bit!"

"It would have been great fun as you wouldn't have known about it, but she went and spoiled it," the first Elf continued. "I am Calithildir, Crown Prince of the Greenwood. These are my brothers, Lamaenor and Legolas. Our last brother is Rivalion, and he tends to our father at the moment."

"Be welcome in our camp, sons of Thranduil," Thorin said. "But the brothers of Tauriel are even more welcome." He pulled Kili away from Tauriel and gestured over to where Bilbo was setting up something that looked like a picnic. "Bring your sister to our feast and I will introduce my Company and Lord Elrond's people."

Thorin proceeded to do just as he promised, and each of the Company welcomed Tauriel with open arms. Gloin told Legolas that they would be having words later, a promise and a threat that had Legolas paling a bit, but he too welcomed Tauriel and her brothers. Thorin was planning on keeping an eye on that situation. Gloin was well known for his over protectiveness of his family, and he would not have the treasurer/warrior start trouble with his Gimli's One already.

"We were not expecting another Twice-Born," Glorfindel said, after the rounds of introductions were done and the first rounds of mead were passed around. (Beorn had been very generous with his supplies.) Bombur had already been cooking lunch, so the rest of the wedding feast was well under way with Bilbo helping to create a few special items for the bride and groom.

Tauriel nodded, even as she clutched at Kili's hand. "There were things that needed tending on this side of the Misty Mountains. King Thranduil is busy preparing for war. Every warrior we have will march to defend Erebor from the Orcs. The people of Lake Town have also been warned. Bard the Bowman has taken their preparations in hand."

"And the Master has not objected? That does not sound like the Man I remember," Thorin said. He hadn't liked the Man the first time around and dealing with him with a clear head hadn't sounded any better. He would as Nori liked to say, suck it up however, as he would not allow Lake Town to burn a second time.

Tauriel blushed a bit. "The former Master of Lake Town decided that it would be better to forfeit his life than remain Master. Master Broen leads Lake Town now and he has backed Bard in all of his plans for saving as much of Lake Town as can be done."

"Tauriel?" Kili asked. Thorin looked closer, knowing that Kili had known the Elf-lass well enough to realize that something was up.

"He decided to offer deadly insult to my prince, and I dealt with the situation," Tauriel said, a growl in her voice offset by a faintly embarrassed look. "While I realize that it makes more work for you, for you would have been planning for the former Master, I do believe that you will find Master Broen to be much more reasonable."

Thorin snorted. "Any Man would be more reasonable than that dragon in Man-flesh. I take it you took care of the situation personally?" Tauriel nodded.

"Good work, lass," Dwalin complemented. "A Man like that is not to be tolerated, especially if he's stupid enough to insult a prince to his face. No telling what he'd do faced with one of our rulers," he said, including the Elves with that statement.

"Oh I don't know," Glorfindel said. "I tend to find that idiots of that caliber tend to get all fawning and kissing of royal asses when they're confronted with rulers. Usually they're scheming behind their masks even as they try to ingrate themselves and really, just from the sound of it, you've done us a very big favor, Lady Tauriel."

Tauriel blushed even harder. "I thank you, my lord, but in truth I was just outraged that he would impune upon my prince's honor in such a fashion, and in front of a crowd of Men no less. It was no less than my duty to deal with the Man, but I was furious that he would dare to make such a statement. There are many things that may or may not be said of the King of the Greenwood, but the honor of his sons is above reproach."

Thorin shrugged, but looked at Legolas. "You returned my sword to me in the middle of the battle last time. It did not save my life, but it did allow me to disable Azog the Pale Orc so that Beorn was able to take his head off. For that, I thank you as I did not live long enough to do so last time." With that, Thorin bowed his head without hesitation. 

Bilbo beamed as he and Bombur brought over the food. "Welcome Tauriel," he said. "And welcome to your brothers as well. I am Bilbo Baggins, formerly of the Shire, head of the Baggins clan this side of the Misty Mountains, and betrothed of Thorin Oakenshield. I am a Hobbit, child of Yavanna, and my people will be settling the Rhodd Bythol once Smaug is dead." He passed around the food and he happily watched as the others dug into the feast. 

"So, you've finally given the settlement a name?" Thorin asked.

"Well, as much as I know everyone will want to see the settlement named something in Westron as few of my people want our language told to outsiders, and I will admit that I was tempted to see if I could learn the translation in Khuzdul or Sandarin, I really believe that we Hobbits should make a statement that although the land is a gift from the King under the Mountain, it is our land and our new home. We are not an off shoot of Men or Elves, nor are we some sort of deformed Dwarrow. We are Hobbits, children of the Green Lady. Our new home should be named in the Green Tongue," Bilbo said firmly.

"So what does it mean?" Fili asked from his place beside Kili. Tauriel and Kili sat at the 'head' of the feast with their families arranged to either side of them. "At least, I think that I should ask, seeing as you said it was a statement, and if it is, we should know what it is that you're saying." 

Bilbo smiled. "It means Everlasting Gift, for once settled my people will not leave the land unless we are directed to by the Green Lady."

Thorin snorted. "And even then, it is doubtful that all of you will leave. That's only happened once in all of your history, correct?"

Bilbo nodded. "Yes but again, that was at the Green Lady's command. It was better that we should leave our work than to be wiped out by the Evil that Sauron and his ilk were sending against our little communities."

"Well then, it is far past time for your people to return to it," Glorfindel said with a toast. "And a toast to Erebor's new princess, may she find favor among her new people and the happy couple lead our two peoples into a new Age of alliance once more."

"Here! Here!" came from all around, and finally, at long last, Kili was allowed to formally Braid Tauriel's hair.

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Holly was so very grateful that the Misty Mountains were now behind them. The attack had been bad, but they had survived and Holly had been able to spend time with Rukuc tending to those who had been injured in the attack. It was a small glimpse of what life with him would be like. He had been surprised to learn that she could tell which herbs were still good and which ones had lost their vitality. She was surprised to learn that he was a fanatic about cleanliness, and that he often used herbs in salves and balms that he had learned from Master Oin. Many of the Hobbit Healers had been interested too.

Rukuc had taught her how to make some of them, and quite frankly they appealed to Holly. Now the stitching of torn flesh was enough to make her lose a meal, and the very idea of setting a bone after hearing Rukuc doing just that was bad enough. However the calm, almost meditative way that the herbs were carefully selected, bruised, and then simmered in oil to create herb essences and then those same essences were mixed into cooling beeswax was very like working in her garden plot when it felt like the Green Lady was watching over her and directing her efforts.

The more Holly learned from Rukuc about his medicines and how he made them, the more she wanted to learn. It seemed that the Green Lady was calling her to become an apothecary. She never would have had the chance had she remained in the Shire as there were almost too many there already. There were several who had traveled this year with the caravan, reasoning that Dwarrow and Men were always beating on each other and so would need medicines more often than Hobbits. Holly knew that they weren't wrong about that. All of the Healers in the caravan; Hobbit, Dwarrow, and Elf alike had confirmed that to her. 

"Go on, ask someone," Ivy said as they boiled freshly washed bandages. This was a chore that was done every night. The bandages that had been from wounds changed and cleaned during the day were washed, boiled and dried before being returned to the Healers every evening. "The worst that they can say is no, and there is nothing stopping you from learning from either the Dwarrow or the Elves either! Or better yet, all three! The more healing recipes that you know, the better your medicines will be, and the more you can sell to Healers that don't have time to make their own medicines, or for people who just need a little something and don't want to go to a Healer. We can use our abilities as Land Healers to grow the best herbs and such for healing, and that will mean the medicines will be that much more effective!"

"It would be a good trade to learn," Holly agreed, looking wistfully at one of the Elven Healers that she had seen making medicines with Rukuc one evening.

"Yes, and even better it will allow you to spend time with Rukuc without things getting too heated," Ivy said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"IVY!" Holly protested. "It's not like that!"

"Oh, please!" Ivy said. "It's like you think I don't even know you! I'm your twin, silly! And Rukuc is your Match! Of course he gets your blood moving." 

Holly just glared at her sister, and then turned to march over to the Elf. If her sister was going to get going about that sort of thing, the best thing to do was to get as far away from her as possible. Even better was for her to become deeply busy with something important, such as learning how to make medicines from the Elves. They were known to be the best Healers in Arda. Ivy wouldn't dare to interrupt a lesson from one of them just to gossip about romance!


	25. Chapter 25

Night of August 3

Well, as much as he hadn't wanted to face it, it was time. He'd finally met his little star's One. Gloin shook his head once more and forced himself to observe the princeling without thinking about the boy's father. He had to judge the lad on his own merits for Gimli's sake. Bah, if only Bilbo hadn't declared the two to be One. On the other hand, the fate that awaited his precious lad if he didn't set his animosity aside was not to be borne. So. Legolas.

The first thing that he really noticed was that he was at ease with the Lady Tauriel, their new princess. He called her sister, even when Gloin knew that according to Nori, the Silvan Elves were no better than the Petty Dwarves as far as the likes of Thranduil were concerned. Well then, that was the place to start. He walked over to Legolas, who was standing watch for the night. That in and of itself was also a good sign, that he wasn't afraid to take his share of the chores of the road. "I thought that the Silvan Elves were to your kind like the Petty Dwarves are to us," he began, sitting down and pulling out his pipe.

"Petty Dwarves?" Legolas asked.

"Aye, followers of Sauron, got caught up in that nastiness and never came out," Goin explained. "Let's see, I think that they were wiped out at Dagorlad, but any shaved and shorn Dwarf is considered to be one."

Legolas looked surprised. "Shaved and shorn?," he asked. 

"A Dwarrow criminal, the lowest of the low," Gloin explained. "Those that we exile ourselves for murder and treason and such. We shave their heads and cut off their beards before we brand them. There aren't many, thank Mahal, but I'll admit that there are a few."

"Ah," Legolas said with a grimace. "My grandfather was slain by them in that battle. It is good to put a name to those who committed the crime, and to know why it was done. As far as the Silvan, no they are not that low in standing, even in my father's eyes. They are more like the most common of Men are to their kings to those like my father."

"And yet, you do not treat her as such," Gloin pointed out.

Legolas shrugged. "She may be of common birth, but we were elflings together in the same house. There are not that many of us that we shunned each other as playmates. The rest of my brothers were full grown when Tauriel joined us, so I was glad to have someone to play with that was close to myself in age. It did not take long for all of us to consider her a little sister. I see no reason to stop now that she is married."

"And her husband?" Gloin asked, suspiciously.

Legolas cocked his head, contemplating Gloin for a moment. "He's not what I would have wanted for her as his life will be so short, but then I am supposed to be the Heart of his cousin, so I suspect that there is more to him than I have yet seen. I will not judge him, not until he gives me reason. If you had asked me last season, I will admit that my answer would have been harsher, but Gimli is supposed to be special beyond all that I could have even imagined, so I suspect Kili will turn out to be astonishing." 

Legolas paused to listen to something in the darkness. He turned once more to Gloin. "I have had some time to think on it, and I wish to get to know Gimli for himself rather than the deeds he is to one day accomplish. Who knows if we will even be asked to go on that quest? Or if Gimli will make the same choices he once did? It is not fair to him for me or anyone else to expect him to be that Dwarf that was and he may not one day become."

"He's still special!," Gloin blustered.

"Of course he is! I merely say that he should not be pushed into becoming something of an Elven myth," Legolas explained. "I am told that the Gimli that was, the ones the Twice-Born knew in that life before their deaths, he became a legend among my people. I would rather know him as Gimli, son of Gloin of no title ever than have him pushed into such a life."

"You would?" Gloin asked, rather pleased at the idea. The Elf lad didn't want a legend, he wanted to know Gimli. That was more than promising. "Finding yourself a bit protective of him, I see."

Legolas blushed. "It is merely that I would not wish to have that sort of life shoved down my throat, and I cannot see that my Heart would want it either."

Gloin nodded. "No one with sense does, but you need not worry about the shorter life span of a Dwarf. If a Dwarrow's One is not of the Khazad, then Mahal has granted that the life span of the shorter will match that of the longer. You will not lose Gimli to death unless it is in battle."

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The less said about the trip to the Elvenking's palace, the better. They didn't end up starving, but it was no more pleasant than the first time Kili had gone through it. The only thing that was a bright spot in the darkness was his Tauriel. Even the Rivendell Elves were dismayed at how dark and horrible the forest had become. Kili had overheard several conversations along the lines of how the White Council should have done something years ago. He didn't want to let anyone know that it was probable that the former White Wizard's fault that nothing had gotten done.

As it was, it was a definite relief to finally reach the palace. They'd only been attacked by spiders twice, which Tauriel had assured everyone was less than she had been expecting, considering that they were mounted on horses and ponies. The spiders found them very tasty and rarely got to catch anything that big. Dwalin had been suitably impressed after watching the fights. "Would you be willing to serve as the bodyguard for the One Fili's going to try and court?" he asked her, as they rode the last few miles to the palace. Kili watched on in delight.

"I would," Tauriel said, with a mysterious smile. "I fear I would grow too bored with nothing to do beneath the mountain."

Dwalin snorted. "No reason to keep a good warrior twiddling their thumbs. Do you have a Craft? I know Elves are different, but you're the One of our Prince, so you might. Might make things go a little easier for you if you do."

"Actually," Tauriel paused, obviously thinking something that hadn't occurred to her before. "I think that I might. I find myself itching to get my hands on the wool sold in Lake Town whenever I see some. I have no idea what I might do with it, but I find myself drawn to it in spite of that."

"Is it the feel, or the colors?" Dori wanted to know as they finally sighted the palace.

"Both," Tauriel said. "But more the colors. They are so dreary. It's wrong somehow."

"Dyer," Dori said with a firm nod. "Works well with you being an Elf too as many dyes are made from plants, and I'm certain that our Hobbit can help you to find the ones that work best around here. If I remember correctly, seeing as I was but a child when we left Erebor, there are several mineral dyes that Erebor used to mine as well. I think I remember my mother telling me that one of the dyes that she used actually came from waste rock from one of the mines."

"One of the copper mines most likely," Thorin said. "The copper itself is sometimes found with malachite and azurite. Both of those are good for dyes. Malachite produces greens and azurite produces blues and copper sometimes is used in dyeing itself but I don't remember how."

"As a mordant, something that makes the color last longer, and stick better to the fibers," Dori told him.

"How did you know that? You're a blacksmith!" Kili wanted to know.

"I was also a Prince of Erebor. I had to know everything there was to know about what our people produced so that I would know in time how to choose what was important and what could be considered less so," Thorin told him. "Fili will be getting the same lessons as the kingdom begins to fill again. You will be getting some of the same lessons so that you will know what can be given away as a trade item, what we need from the Elves, what we can give as alliance gifts, that sort of thing. It all comes down to knowing what our people have and need. Without that, we cannot serve their needs for we will not know what we are able to part with without harming them."

"You are far wiser than your grandfather," Calithildir said, as he waved the palace doors open. "He forgot that a king serves his people, rather than his people serve his whims."

Thorin sighed and nodded. "He is known among us as Thror the Mad. I remember him before he got sick, but even I was but a small child then. The lessons he gave me I take to my heart, both from before and after his illness, for he was a good ruler before the dragon-sickness struck him. I remember wondering why he would not do anything he should have done after Smaug's attack, and that's when I realized just how sick he really was. I swore I would never become my grandfather in that moment." 

The grimace on his face reminded Kili that Thorin still blamed himself for falling to the dragon-sickness last time, even though Mahal had said that it wasn't their fault that they all had been touched with it. Sauron's ring and Smaug's malice had been at fault, and the dangers of war had brought them all out of it in the end.

Before Kili knew it, the Company and the Rivendell Elves were taking up chairs and benches outside of the Hall of the Elvenking, and he was being led by Cal through the doors to meet with Thranduil on his own. Even Tauriel would have deserted him if he hadn't refused to let go of her hand.

Once through the doors Kili found himself and Tauriel waiting alone in the hall with Thranduil sitting, no lounging, on his throne. (He was fairly certain that he could see guards in the shadows, and also that he wasn't supposed to be able to, so he ignored them as well as the Elf behind the throne and Cal at their side.) "So, the Dwarrow of Erebor return," Thranduil said, annoyance echoing in every syllable. Kili bowed, and was about to begin his speech when Thranduil began ranting about how he hoped that Kili and his ilk would at least be a little more honorable than the filth that his great-grandfather had been. Fortunately Kili had been expecting something of the sort, even as he saw a very familiar looking Elf moving behind the throne sigh and reach for a packet of herbs, emptying it into a cup of wine.

In fact, Thranduil's rant had mostly washed over him, (surprisingly as he'd thought that he might have been a little more scared or offended, but really. How could he even begin to be when it was true that Thror was mad?), when some little thing caught his attention. It was the gems again, of course. He'd been expecting a demand for them to be returned, but something in the way that Thranduil had referred to them.....

"Starlight gems," Kili muttered to himself, "Starlight is memory. Memory gems?" He quickly turned to Tauriel, accidentally cutting off Thranduil, who looked about ready to remove Kili's head for the offense. "How long does it take for a good sized amount of the army to get to Erebor from here?" he asked urgently.

"Two weeks," Tauriel said.

Kili turned back to Thranduil. "Two weeks. Starlight gems. Right, I think I understand now. Thank you, your majesty." With that, he turned and hurried back out of the hall. He didn't notice Thranduil's screech, or the Healer's attempt to get the drugged wine into him. He simply hurried back to Thorin, with Calithildir right behind him. He did not think to close the doors, and so his words were heard by everyone, both Elf and Dwarf alike. "I think you were right, Uncle. Thror did do something unforgivable. It takes two weeks to get to Erebor. Thranduil wasn't there to help, he was there to go to war when Smaug came. That's why he didn't help. That's why he ordered his people to turn around. He wasn't about to go to kill unarmed refugees, but he wouldn't help someone from a realm that he was about to make war on either."

"All for a single chest of gems?" Thorin asked, confused. He'd seen that chest. It wasn't that special.

"Yes, but they're not just gems," Kili agreed, and turned to Tauriel. "You can put memories in those gems, right. That's why you call them starlight gems. Those gems had memories stored in them."

Calithildir agreed. "Of course there were. They were memories special to my mother, ones of myself and my brothers as children, and other memories just as important to her. Father would not go to war for anything less."

Kili turned back to Thorin, not realizing that all of the Company had gathered around them. "Thror didn't steal a chest of gems from the Elves. He stole the memories."

"The Elvenking's memories," Legolas pointed out. "It was not as though the memories were erased from Father's mind, but to have his memories in the hands of one who had betrayed us..." He shrugged. He at least, was not surprised that his father had taken the steps to recover those memories at any cost. "No one expected Smaug would attack that day." He looked at each of the Dwarrow in turn. "You did not know this?"

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Thorin shook his head. Of all the stupid things to do, this took the gem mine. Why would Elves do something so foolish as to put their memories into something that could get lost or stolen?!? Well, this killed what Mahal hadn't been able to quench. He led the way back into the Hall. 

"Thranduil," he said, noting that the Elf actually had a livid expression on his face. "King of the Woodland. Not one of us had a damned clue that you'd worked some sort of Elvish magic on those gems. Thror was mad. And I must admit, that with what you'd done to the things, it was damned important that you got them back. I can even see why you did not help us that day. My anger against you for the last century and more has been for the loss of life of our wounded, due to lack of medicine, and the number of children that starved due to lack of food because you turned your back on us when I expected help from an ally." Thorin took a deep breath. "But I would not have helped ones who betrayed me either."

Thranduil seemed to calm a bit at Thorin's admission. "Those gems must be returned. The Twice-Born tell me that you will succeed in killing the dragon, although it looks like you already know that."

"Yes, we were sent back to make certain that things went better this time," Thorin said. "Too many died that the Valar had use for. If I die on the battle field once more, so be it, but you will have your memory gems returned to you before the Orcs arrive, and I ask only that you help those that survive the battle survive the Winter."

"You'd better not," Bilbo muttered beside him. "I'm not living another eighty years without you, you confusticating dwarf." Thorin's grin and gentle head bump to Bilbo's forehead seemed to startle Thranduil out of the rest of his temper.

"What are your plans?" Thranduil demanded to know.

"Smaug will die, and then we will cleanse the hoard enough so that the free people can enter Erebor once more. I will invite the Men to shelter their women, the children and the old inside the mountain while we fight the Orcs. Your gems will be returned to you, along with anything else that might be of an Elvish nature, considering that Smaug has probably brought more into the treasury, once they have been cleansed of his malice. Will washing the gems in salt water and then drying them in a clean flame damage your Elven magic?" Thorin asked.

"No," Thranduil admitted, stunned a little at Thorin's reasonableness. 

"Good, then I will see you on the battle field," Thorin said, and turned and marched out.

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Arwen was delighted by the young Hobbit lass who had begged her for lessons in medicine making. Apparently she was betrothed to one of the Dwarrow Healers, and was a Healer of the land herself. The lass fully admitted that healing a person was far beyond her, ("It's the sounds and the smells, you see. I'm a lass, so I'm used to blood, but the rest turn my stomach something awful."), but Arwen could see how even approaching the Mirkwood affected her. "OOOOHHHH, nasty, nasty, nasty," Holly muttered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

"I agree," the Elven maid said. The two of them were walking along the caravan back to the Healer's tent, following her father. "Even I can feel the sickness rolling off the trees from here. How long before we reach the forest's edge, Ada?"

"Another three days," Elrond told them, holding the tent's doorway flap open for them. "After that, it will take at least a month to travel through the Mirkwood and another month to travel to Erebor. If we are lucky, we should reach the mountain within a day or two of Durin's Day."

"By then that dragon should be dead and we can get started setting up an infirmary for the wounded," Holly said. "We'll be needing a lot of honey'd drinks, soothing things to get through that muck. Probably take it in shifts, if I know Priestess Honeysuckle..." she muttered as she reached for the stool she regularly used to stand on when dealing with Elven furniture. "So much to do....."


	26. Chapter 26

Two days before the caravan was to enter Mirkwood, all of the Land Healers met with the leaders of the caravan, the stone masons, and all of the warriors. Priestess Honeysuckle spoke for the Hobbits. "All right then. We Hobbits can feel how poisoned the Mirkwood forest is from here. We Land Healers feel it even more. You all have done a wonderful job in getting us this far. Now is the time we Hobbits need to step up and do our part in getting this caravan to Erebor.

"As for how we intend to do just that, we're going to start clearing the poison out of Mirkwood now that the Enemy is gone. Stone masons, please continue working on the road. Warriors, please continue to guard over us as we journey through the forest. As for the rest of everyone, please help to clear two feet along side the road. Remove any rocks, large branches, dead trees, that sort of thing. The rocks can go to the stone masons and the dead wood can go to the fires. We Hobbits will do the rest. It will only be a start mind you, but start we will."

"But what will you be doing?" Elrond asked. He knew that the Land Healers could call on the Green Lady, as he'd been told they had during the 'battle' in the Misty Mountains, but he wasn't sure what could be done with the Mirkwood as the Green Lady wasn't allowed to actually enter Middle Earth and do the cleansing of the foulness he could feel. Surely it would take more than the Hobbits could do themselves.

"We'll be planting sunflowers," Priestess Honeysuckle said firmly. "I know that doesn't sound like much to you, especially you Dwarrow, but sunflowers are special to the Green Lady. They were part of her wedding bouquet, and are blessed by her to pull such poisons into them and purifying the poison. The seeds the flowers produce will feed the small animals of the forest, helping them to recover. Everything in the forest is interconnected, and punching a hole through that foulness will help immensely."

"So you will turn those two feet into a flower garden," Arwen said, delighted that something so nice would help even the animals of the forest. "All the way through the forest."

"Well, more like a flower barrier," Honeysuckle admitted. "As more Hobbits move through this area, we'll be planting new trees and other types of plants, restoring the forest to what it should be, but the sunflowers must come first."

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Thorin and the rest of his group did not stay long in the palace of the Elvenking. Not only did they wish to continue on to Lake Town, but the Wood Elves were far too busy getting ready to move their army to have much in the way of hospitality. Not that Thorin minded, as he was still very uncomfortable with Thranduil, no matter that he now understood what he had not before. Stupid Elf should have waited for the jewelry to have been made before magicking the gems, he grumbled to himself as they rode out of the forest.

Nevertheless, riding out of the forest brought with it a breath of fresh air that was not entirely unexpected. The Mirkwood might have been less murky this close to the palace, but it was still tainted, and Thorin was pleased to see Bilbo sigh in relief. "It's not gone, the taint that is," Bilbo said to Thorin's smile. "That has flowed into what is coming off of Smaug, but it's lesser here than it is in the forest or close to the mountain. My people will have a lot of work to do once they arrive."

"I for one, will greatly appreciate their efforts," Tauriel said from behind them. "I have lived for far too long in the shadow and can not wait to see the light your Lady will bring."

"Turning the desolation into something like the Shire will be many years hard work, but we're up for the challenge!" Bilbo declared with a grin. "I do believe that I am going to invest in orchards, as well as mills and breweries. The last time I was wandering around the desolation I got the feeling that it would be a good place for trees to thrive, and there is so much you can do with good fruit!"

"Apple brandy!" Bofur called, riding in the back of the Company to the laughter of many.

"Fruit pies and pastries!" came from Bombur.

"I do like me a good cobbler," Gloin admitted.

"Cordials, and fruit to make vinegars for medicines," Oin said.

"Dried fruit for the road," Dwalin said. "Good for long marches."

"Yes, there is plenty of work for your people, for as their fields and gardens grow they will find many markets for their yields," Thorin said with a smug grin. He was counting on the Hobbits' need to grow things to help feed his people when they came. A well fed populace was generally a happy one, a happy one was generally a prosperous one, and a prosperous people was what was needed to field the armies that would be needed to defeat Sauron. Thorin was determined that Erebor's peoples would be at the front of that fight.

Bilbo smiled at Thorin. "Don't worry," he murmured. "We'll be ready when it comes time for me to deal with the box and what it contains."

Thorin was glad that, although Bilbo was still being very cagey about just what his task from the Valar actual entailed, the two of them had talked about what Erebor would need to be ready for when that task took place. He'd already talked with Sylvi, Gloin's wife, when they were in Rivendell. A lot of the caravan's dwarrow had found their Ones in the Hobbits coming to Erebor. They were already doing their best to court the lasses, and Sylvi predicted that most of them would be getting married in the Spring if not sooner. 

Knowing how fertile Hobbits were, (and thanks to a quite frank discussion with Bilbo on the matter of just how the Hobbits pulled it off, including Bilbo's frantic and rather disgusted consult with Oin on the particulars of how Dwarrow went about things), Thorin was looking forward to seeing quite a few Dwobbits being harvested next year. It would be worth it just to see the look on people's faces to be present at one of those births! He was not above hoping for a small sprout of his own as well, but that would come later.

Still, lots of new pebbles meant that in time there would be lots of people to swell the ranks of the necessary armies. Perhaps Bilbo's people could share that talent with some of the Elves? The Men wouldn't need it. They did just fine in having lots of children all on their own, and as long as Thorin made certain that Smaug didn't kill the Men off before things got going with the Orcs, then they should recover from the battle easily. Well fed Men spawned almost as easily as Hobbits. 

Thorin glanced over at Fili, who had become very quiet. With any luck, Sigrid should also be able to have more than a single child, helping to ensure that the line of Durin continued on as well as even if he and Bilbo managed to sprout a child Fili was still his first heir and would be king after him. At any rate, it was finally Fili's turn to be reunited with his One and the poor lad was working himself into a real state of nerves over it. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the palace.

Thorin waited until they'd made camp before finding Fili. The poor lad was grooming the horse once more. If he did it any more he would brush the coat clean off the daft thing before they got there. "The horse is clean and well groomed, Fili. It doesn't need any more brushing," he said, taking the brush away from his sister-son.

Fili hung his head. "I know, I just can't think of anything else to do right now. Kili's wed his Elf, you have your Hobbit, and I'm going to try and woo a Daughter of Men who I barely met last time. At least the rest of you had time to do some courting. I barely spent any time with Sigrid that wasn't full of Orcs or dragonfire."

"Peace, Fili," Thorin said, and pulled him in to give him a headbutt. "You are One. Our Maker has created both of you to be each other's half and you will have more than a month for courting before Durin's Day. I will not say it will be easy. We live in times that tell the truth of such a lie, but having your One at your side will only be a blessing when the time comes for you to take the throne, whether that be after the battle, or in the fullness of time."

"Don't bring that curse down on my head, Uncle!" Fili said, giving Thorin a soft fist to the gut as Thorin still had hold of his shoulders. "There's far too much to do for me to learn how to be king as you did right now. You've led our people through some of the harshest times our people have ever seen. You not only deserve to see Erebor restored to us, you're the one who knows best how to get that done! I have only the vaguest of ideas on how to do that."

Thorin laughed. "You think I had any idea when I became king? Remember, I was barely more than a child myself when Father was captured and Thror was killed. The only ones I could turn to were younger than I was. Our cousin Dain was only 32 when he lost his father and his foot and became Lord of the Iron Hills! All I could do was hold on to what I remembered and the lessons that Balin had been given as apprentice to the steward. At least his master wasn't killed in Azanulbizar even if he was crippled, so we had that. 

"When your turn comes, you will make mistakes, we all do. That is the very nature of being able to chose. You simply do your best, and if it isn't good enough, you try something different until it finally works out one way or another. You've paid attention to your lessons, and you are already older than I was when the burden came to me. You will do fine, and having Sigrid at your side will only help. She will be able to help you figure out these crazy North Men."

Fili sighed. "And Kili will be there for our people in figuring out what the Elves want, at least those Elves that are left after the war that Bilbo says is coming."

"Not all of the Elves will sail," Legolas said, coming to groom his own horse. "That is the fate of the High Elves, but the Silvan Elves, they will remain long after the rest have gone. Tauriel and Kili will be available to you and your people for many centuries yet."

"Aye, and if she's half the lass I think she is, she'll have the rest of 'em eating out of her hand in no time," Gloin said with a grin as he too came over to groom his pony.

Thorin watched as Legolas and Gloin groomed their mounts, examining the way they interacted. There was no stiffness or wariness anymore. He knew that the two of them had talked, but it looked like it had gone well. It seemed that Bilbo's words had been heeded, and Gloin was making an effort to get to know Legolas without bringing the Elvenking into it. Good. That meant that he wouldn't have to do anything about it. He'd had a few nightmares about dealing with Thranduil over Gloin having killed the lad.

Things were looking good. Now, if only they could get through meeting with the Men without too much trouble.

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Dain Ironfoot paced down the rows of pig pens, looking over the battle pigs and seeing which ones were ready for the battle that Thorin had said was coming. Not against that dratted Smaug, may he rot in the waters of the Long Lake, but Orcs thinking that they would be able to take over Erebor when the drake was dead. Dain paused long enough to mutter a curse. He'd head to his personal forge after this, make some prayers to Mahal for those going up against the drake and those going into battle afterwards, maybe even see if he could improve his foot for more maneuverability. 

Dain trusted Thorin about what was coming. No one but a fool would think to pull a con about Mahal talking to him and giving him a task - and Thorin was no fool. Plus his priests had confirmed it - young Prince Kili was to take on Smaug with Mahal's blessing and Dain was to do everything that he could to support Thorin in the effort. He reached up and touched the braid bead that the priest had handed to him. It was the mark of a favored son, and Dain was humbled by the honor. 

All in all, if he took every single warrior, every Dwarrow and Dam willing to raise an axe against the Orcs, he would have nearly 2500 warriors to take with him when he marched to Erebor the day after Durin's Day. He'd need both the battle rams and the battle pigs, as many as they could reasonably send into battle. He already had several newly created battalions training together so that they would be able to work together when the time came. 

The forges were in full production creating arms and armor for those going to fight as well as some of the new battle weapon designs that his warrior-engineers had come up with. Dain had set aside half of the forges for those who wished to make prayers for those going into battle. Many a father was using them to create axes and armor for their sons and mothers were forging the same for those daughters who had proclaimed that they were going.

Dain hadn't hidden his plans from his people. He'd stated it simply - Orcs were marching on Erebor and would arrive soon after Durin's Day. The warriors of the Iron Hills would be there to meet them and send them packing - what few they left alive at any rate. His people had responded with a fervor that even he hadn't expected. Erebor may have been taken over by a dragon, but by Mahal's great hammer, the Orcs wouldn't be getting their greedy paws on it!

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Sigrid had thought long and hard as she made Thorin's robes about what a home inside the mountain would need. A feather bed was the first thing that she'd thought of because it had to be cold inside that mountain. Getting enough feathers for it would not have been easy if she hadn't been best friends with the butcher's daughter. She had traded helping to pluck the feathers of the ducks and geese who made their homes on the lake for taking home the feathers and down. She got enough to make the bed, plus pillows and a down quilt. That had honestly taken her most of the time that she had been working on her chest. 

As for the rest of what was going into the chest, she had pillow cases for the pillows she had made, and a fine rug for in front of a fireplace as she'd gotten a good deal on a sheep's pelt and from the tanner to work on it by trading several of the cattle hides that Bain had brought back from his and her Da's hunting trips. There was a table cloth with a nice lace trim and a mantle cloth to match so that they could invite important people to their home, and curtains as she at least hoped that they would have a window or two or at least a doorway onto a terrace. Bed curtains were easy enough to make and she planned on having a set in her chest, but she had been at a loss to think about what else she would need. It wasn't until Hilda, (and Sigrid asked for blessings from Eru for her every day because she was Valar sent Sigrid was certain), pointed out that the Iron Hills had sent merchants to the market and that she could surely ask questions about what was needed from them, that Sigrid got the help that she needed to finish her chest.

"Bril!" Sigrid called, as she hurried over to the merchant's stall. "I am so glad to see you! Do you have those lanterns I asked about last time?" Dwarven work was expensive, but in Bril, daughter of Flail, Sigrid had found a sympathetic soul. The Dwarrowdam's One was a Man, a hunter by trade, and they made their living traveling the caravan roads. Bril had told her of the little things that a Dwarven home needed - such as lanterns for light, and how furniture was often carved of stone and covered in cushions if they lived under a mountain. There was more of course, but such things would not be told to her until she had married Fili, and thus would be considered a Dwarrowdam herself.

"Yes, I have them," Bril said, and brought out the two lanterns. "How are things going with your Dwarrow? It's soon to be time for the wedding, yes?"

"Yes, we'll be married just before Durin's Day," Sigrid said with laugh. "I can't wait for it, and at the same time, I want to wait another year so I have more time to work on my dower chest. I swear, I don't know how I'll get everything made, but the lack of sleep is worth it."

Bril shook her head at the foolishness of Men. "I keep telling you, the works of your Craft are a well done gift to your One, but if the two of you are One, nothing else matters. You could live in a wagon, like my Man and I do, or one of your houses here in Lake Town, it won't make a bit of difference. He won't turn you away for not having much."

"No, but I won't dishonor him and his family by having nothing. I must show that I am willing to work, both for our marriage and the duties that will be demanded of me as Fili's wife," Sigrid said firmly. "Stitching is my Craft, so I will give the work of my hands to his family to show that I am as serious about this as I can be."

Bril laughed and shook her head. "You're a good lass, Sigrid, and that's a fact. Your Fili must be a special one for Mahal to have crafted you for him!" Sigrid merely smiled and paid the price for the two lanterns.


	27. Chapter 27

August 17

Fili waited while Thorin greeted Bard. The Bowman had met the Company and their Elves at the place where the Forest River met the Long Lake at the head of a group of Men. "Welcome, all of you, to Esgaroth. Please allow me and my Men to escort you to Lake Town. We have a month before your venture into the mountain, and I hope that you will find our hospitality to your liking." He noticed that although Bard addressed his remarks to Thorin, his gaze wandered over each of the Dwarrow in turn, almost like he was looking for something, or someone.

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain. Well met, Bard the Bowman," Thorin greeted the Man. "Welcome your hospitality will be, for we have traveled far."

"A day's ride shall see us to Lake Town, and there are quarters waiting for all of you there," Bard assured him, even as his gaze continued to wander.

Fili simply couldn't wait any longer. As the two groups did the troublesome necessity of rearranging themselves from two different groups into one, Fili approached Bard, holding onto the bridle of his horse. "Bard the Bowman, I am Fili, son of Dis,"

"So you're the one," Bard interrupted him. Fili could hear Kili giggling along with Tauriel, but he didn't let it bother him. He was sure now that Tauriel had warned the Man that he was coming. "I understand that you want to court my eldest daughter." The Man, who Fili remembered as a dour one, was frowning even more than he remembered.

"Father of the maid Sigrid," Fili began, careful to recite as the Rohirrim custom demanded. "I bring to you a warhorse. I pray she is found worthy in your sight to carry your daughter into battle."

"A warhorse?" Bard said shocked. He looked at the mare whose bridle Fili was holding. 

Fili held out the horse's bridle and Bard took it. He continued as Bard began running his hands over the mare. "I also bring Sigrid a teacher, should she wish to walk the Shieldmaid's path and have no instructor. Dwalin, son of Fundin, is our Weaponsmaster, and he has offered to take her on as a student if it is her wish. If this is not the path she chooses, I will support any path she chooses to walk." Dwalin, standing behind Fili, saluted Bard and bowed.

"Even if it means she will not walk your path?" Bard asked, having finished examining the mare.

Fili stood tall. "Sigrid is my One. I will have no other in all my time even after the coming of the Second Music. If she chooses Craft over Marriage, I will make no demand on her, for that is her right."

Bard looked the mare over again, and stood there a moment looking off into the distance. "You know, Valar destined or not, I wasn't going to allow you anywhere near my daughter. She's not quite of courting age, no matter what anyone says about it, but I remember well what it takes to earn a Rohan warhorse to gift to a Shieldmaid's father. I have no doubt that you must have had it worse than I. The Rohirrim don't take well to outsiders who try to court their women."

Bard sighed and focused again on Fili. "But instead of demanding to be given her hand in marriage by right of your birth in an alliance marriage as Crown Prince of Erebor, you come to me with a warhorse of her mother's people, asking to try to court her as I once asked to court her mother." He glanced at Dwalin. "You also bring her a teacher, and tell me that you expect her to choose her own path, even if she agrees to wed you. A path that you would not hinder, no matter her choice." He sighed once more. "That is far more respect for her than I could expect from any Man who may have asked me for her hand. I wasn't prepared for that."

"I'm no spoiled princeling to demand that which I have no right to. A lady's hand is her own to bestow, Daughter of Man or not. My mother would have my beard for even daring to think of such an insult!" Fili said firmly.

Dwalin snorted. "She'd take more than your beard, lad and that's a fact."

"She'd take everything it was attached to as well!" snickered Kili. "Greetings, Bard. I am Kili, son of Dis, and brother to this one here. Tauriel tells me that you've repaired the windlance in case I miss the shot?"

"Ah, so you're Tauriel's Kili," Bard said, as he swung up on the mare. Fili bit back a sigh of relief as he knew it meant that Bard had accepted the horse, giving Fili permission to try and court Sigrid. "Please, make that shot. I have no wish to face down that dragon!"

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Two weeks into their trip through the Mirkwood the leaders met again, and Holly was ready to scream. They weren't even halfway through the forest. Oh, the Dwarrow and the Elves were helping as best as they could, and all of the Hobbits were of course knowledgeable enough to do the job even though they had never had the chance before - but - BUT! Holly stopped fussing and huffed at herself. It wasn't anyone's fault that their plan wasn't working as well as they had hoped. The trees, somehow still alive in spite of the Evil that soaked into the very soil, were too tall and too close together for them to simply clear two feet from the side of the road. The sunflowers needed light to grow and the trees were too close to the road to let the light through well.

Adding to the troubles with bringing down enough trees so that the required amount of sunlight reached the road, the trees were full of giant spiders and twisted animals. The warriors, bounders, and anyone who could raise a weapon needed to keep one hand on their weapons and only used the other for the work that needed two hands. If it wasn't for the Green Lady's help, Holly didn't think that they would ever get anywhere in creating the flower barrier. 

They were taking down trees nearly twenty feet on either side of the road just so that the road itself had enough light for travel during the day. The Dwarrow's axes were making swift work of the job, but it still meant that they had far too many trees to deal with, not to mention the problems that always came with logging. They had firewood aplenty, as enough of the trees had dead branches to make enough fires for the entire caravan more than thrice over. The logs on the other hand, well there was just far too much green wood.

"Leave them to season, or to rot into the ground," was Lord Elrond's opinion. "They will make a good resource for the building of new homes in the next few years as more of your people travel to Erebor."

"Aye," agreed Sylvi. "There's plenty of woodworkers that will want them later, hopefully when such poison as they contain is leached out."

"Hmmm," Honeysuckle pondered. "I'll have to ask the Lady, but I think that might work. Plant sunflowers among the logs perhaps...." she muttered to herself as she wandered off.

Elrond glanced at Holly. She shrugged. "It looks like she's gone to consult the Green Lady on what we should do about the trees. They are her special concern after all. She should know what needs to be done. I'm for one glad that Priestess Honeysuckle is the one leading us here. She's got a sort of mind that makes mole hills out of mountains."

Elrond smiled. "A good trait in one who must lead," he agreed. "If Yavanna tells us to leave the logs to season, then we should be able to make up some of the time we've lost."

"Good," Holly said shortly. The very last thing she wanted was for their caravan to be so late as to hinder the caravan that was coming up behind them. That was terribly rude. She woke almost every morning fearing to see the other caravan walking up the road and over running them.

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It was dark when Sigrid and Bain carried her dower chest to Lake Town's town hall. She'd finished everything she was going to have time for, and the chest barely closed - which was as it should be. She knew that Fili and his Company would arrive at Lake Town tonight. She'd overheard the thrush that Tauriel had sent talking to her father. She wasn't going to let a single moment go to waste. The very minute that Fili arrived, she was going to present her chest to him and hopefully he would go along with her plan to marry him immediately. She hoped that it wasn't too improper to ask him for his braids so soon.

"Are you going to marry Fili tonight?" Tilda asked, bouncing as Sigrid and Bain set her chest on the Town Hall steps.

"That's my plan, but to be honest, plans don't always go the way we want them to," Sigrid warned her. "And remember, Fili is a Dwarf, and that means that we won't be getting married like Hamar and Eona did. When Dwarrow marry, they don't trade rings, they braid each other's hair. So to marry Fili, I have to braid his hair and he'll braid mine. That's how you'll know we're married."

Tilda nodded seriously as Sigrid sat down next to her chest before sitting down in front of her sister. Bain decided to stand on the other side of the chest. Everyone knew that the Dwarrow were expected tonight, and the Bardlings' actions were more than simply noted. "Are you sure about this, Sigrid?" Hilda asked. A group of the town's people were gathering in the square, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of those coming to kill the dragon.

"Yes," Sigrid said simply. She sat with all of the dignity that her one time princess lessons had drilled into her. She would not shame Fili or his people. It may not have happened yet, but she was the eldest princess of Dale, and she would show everyone that she was worthy of the Crown Prince of Erebor, greatest of the Dwarrow kingdoms.

Honestly she just wanted this part to be over so she could get Fili alone, and not for what her friends had spent the last few months wondering about either. She knew the basics of that. Hilda had made certain that Sigrid knew what she had to know long before she had died and had gone over everything once again when Hilda had found out that Sigrid was going to be marrying Fili. Dwarrow weren't that different from Men. She knew that much from having Dwarrow in her patrols. Orc blood had to be washed off as soon as possible or it itched something fierce. No, what she wanted was to be able to talk to Fili without everyone from Lake Town, (and she was sure those that would be coming with her Dwarf), being the worst sorts of busy bees and trying to listen in.

Soon enough they could all hear the horses and ponies reaching the lake shore. What she didn't expect to see when they finally arrived at the town hall though, was her father riding a horse. Now the people of Lake Town were not unused to horses. They had them, and rode them, and used them for everything that other people used horses for - but Lake Town was built on the Long Lake, and thus horses were rarely seen in the town itself. In fact, other than a few merchants who used them to transport goods to the town, nearly everyone used small boats and barges on the canals between their buildings rather than bringing horses onto the wooden walkways that served Lake Town as streets.

Bard took one look at Sigrid and his two other children and shook his head with a sigh. "Percy, take the Elves off to where they are staying, please," he called as he swung down from the mare. "You grow more like your mother every day, Sigrid," he said, shaking his head again. "So I suppose I should do this her way. Sigrid, Shieldmaid of Lake Town, one has come who has presented a warhorse to our house. Do you find her worthy to ride into battle?"

"OH SIGRID, SHE'S SO PRETTY!!!!" squealed Tilda, bouncing up to run over to the horse. 

Bard snatched her up into his arms as the watching crowd laughed at her exuberance. "Now Tilda, that horse is Sigrid's. Do you remember the stories I've told you about your Ma? It's that kind of horse."

"OH!" Tilda tried to whisper, but failed as only a child can.

Sigrid wasn't so old that the sight of a Rohan warhorse wasn't enough to bring the exact same excitement to her heart as it did to her sister's. They were granddaughters of the Mark, after all. It was only to be expected. The one thing she could say was that she was a little more dignified as she got up and examined the wonderful, beautiful, and of all things WAR TRAINED!!!!!, horse that Fili had brought to her father to get his permission for an attempt at a courtship.

"She's beautiful, Fili!" Sigrid said, as soon as she could look away from the mare and saw her Dwarf standing there with his uncle's Company. "How in all of Arda did you manage to get her all the way from the Mark to here?"

"I'm glad that you approve of her, and it wasn't easy," Fili admitted. "I also bring you gifts in the traditions of my own people, if you are willing to see them?"

"I am," Sigrid said, grinning ear to ear. A warhorse, he hadn't brought her a saddle mare he'd brought her a warhorse!!!!! It was nearly enough to distract her from how nice his braids were done up. Nothing like the half drowned Dwarf that she'd first seen when her Da had smuggled them into Lake Town last time. Alright, the mustache braids intrigued her, but right now the horse was the most important thing. She didn't think that anything could top that gift!

It turned out she was wrong, for what Fili presented to her was a full set of armor, fashioned in the Rohirrim manner. There was a helmet, a sword, dagger and shield, and chainmail that looked like it would actually fit her! Sigrid knew that she was on the short side for Daughter of Man, but the mail leggings weren't too long. Neither was the mail shirt too big around. There was also a set of leathers to go over the mail, with the thrush of Dale over the breast. Sigrid looked up, only to find that Fili had one more gift for her, a set of thin, sharp metal sticks with thrushes on the pommel. "They're hair sticks, so that even when you must dress up formally, you will always have a weapon within your reach," Fili explained. "I'll have to adjust the mail to get the best fit, as I made them from memory, but they are all made by my own hand, save for the sword and dagger. For that, I went to my uncle, who is a Master Blacksmith, and who has more experience in Crafting blades for I wish you to have nothing but the best I can provide."

"OH Fili!" Sigrid breathed in delight. With that, she threw propriety to the waves and grabbed his braids to kiss him breathless.

"Never grow up, Tilda," Bard muttered.

Sigrid let Fili go and took a step back. "In the manner of my father's people, I have Crafted a chest for our home. Will you examine it, and see if the works of my hands are to your liking?" she asked, breathless but trying to regain her dignity.

Fili bowed, a smile on his face. "I will."

Sigrid led him over to where Bain was still standing over her dower chest. From Bain she took a bundle, and brought it over to Thorin. She dropped into a perfect curtsy. "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, called Oakenshield, King under the Mountain. To you I present my bride's gift that I have Crafted with my own hands. It is my hope that you find it worthy," she said simply, and handed over the bundle.

Thorin bowed to her and unfolded the set of robes that she had made. He carefully examined them, but Sigrid was used to that. A Dwarf never just accepted anything, especially something that was known to be Crafted. It was always examined meticulously before it was accepted or rejected. The longer he took to examine the robes, the more likely he was to accept them. After long enough that Sigrid was ready to do almost anything to get his reaction, he bowed to her again. "I accept them. They are well Crafted, and will be of great use to me." He shucked his traveling coat and put on the robes. Sigrid breathed a sigh of relief to see that they actually fit him rather well.

Sigrid turned back to see Fili shut the chest. He nodded. "You are a fine Crafter," he said. "Your gifts are very fine indeed."

Sigrid walked the few steps she needed to reach him. He looked up the few inches he needed to see her eyes. She was honestly glad she was so short for once. She wasn't more than half a head taller than he was, and she wasn't going to grow more than another half inch. It put them on a much better scale with each other. "Will you give me your braids this night, Fili? Or must I wait to see if you survive?"

Fili glanced over at Bard, who was frowning severely. "Your father might take exception to that," he warned.

Sigrid glared over at her father and said without looking away. "My Da will to keep his opinions to himself. I asked you, Fili, son of Dis, Crown Prince of Erebor, will you give me your braids tonight?"

"You know what you ask?" Fili asked, even as he reached up to loosen the braid that hung where his marriage braid would be.

"Yes, Tauriel has spoken of it, and I have Dwarrow friends," Sigrid explained.

"Then I will be glad to braid your hair, before Mahal and Eru, and both our people," Fili swore. Sigrid pulled her own hair out of her braids, her hair falling to her knees. Fili pulled a leather pouch out from around his neck and removed the marriage beads he'd gotten from Mahal, and then he braided one into her hair before showing her how to braid his. "You remember," he whispered into her ear as he did so.

"Yes, and you and I are going to have a long talk about going off to scout out Azog's command tent without a proper set of armor!" she hissed in his own.


	28. Chapter 28

Everyone met in the town hall for breakfast. Although the inns that had served to host the Elves and Dwarrow were well supplied with food, (that being their major way of earning income), there was a great deal of planning to do and the town hall provided the best place for everyone to meet. "You were right, Tauriel!" Sigrid called as her friend and Kili made their way to the table. "He really does resemble a porcupine!"

Tauriel laughed. "So, did you cut yourself?" she teased, sitting down next to Sigrid. Fili and Kili exchanged confused looks. They had seats across the table from their ladies.

"No, but it was a near thing!" Sigrid laughed.

"Porcupine?" Fili and Kili asked, wanting to know just what the ladies were talking about. Thorin and Bilbo looked on with amusement as they passed around the breakfast dishes to the rest of the Company. Bilbo at least, had some small inkling of what the ladies were talking about. He'd heard the Elf guards complaining about Fili. They were still waiting on Bard and the rest to come in.

"A porcupine is a little animal that lives close to the forest edge," Sigrid explained. "Some of our hunters bring them in to market once in a while. They make good eating if you can find one."

"Shut it, Kee," Fili said, shoving his brother without taking his gaze off of his new wife. Kili sighed and rolled his eyes while shoving back, but let the obvious remark go.

Sigrid smiled at their antics, but continued. "But the most remarkable thing about the porcupine is that it's back is covered in quills, little spines that resemble daggers and are just about as sharp, not to mention barbed. You can't let a dog hunt them or they come back with their mouths full of the quills, and no few of them often find themselves in the hunter as well."

The Dwarrow all smiled as they recognized the resemblance to Fili. "Ah, dangerous to hunt." "Cut yourself trying," and other such remarks came from the rest of the Company, Kili included.

Tauriel grinned. "I swear, my guards pulled an even dozen daggers off of him last time."

Sigrid looked thoughtful for a moment, obviously counting daggers in her head. "I don't think you found them all, Tauriel," she said, at which point everyone broke into laughter and Fili spread his hands in a proud shrug at the laughing Elf.

"What can I say?" he asked. "It's not like you stripped me down to my smalls!"

"Thank goodness for that!" Kili snarked and Bard and the new Master entered the hall to sounds of riotous laughter.

"Bard! Please come sit!" Thorin called, and gestured to the two empty seats next to him and Bilbo, obviously left open for the Men. There were more seats left open further down the table, stretching as it did the entire length of the hall for the rest of the Men he had brought.

"Your Majesty, this is Master Broen," Bard introduced as the two Men sat down. "He is the Master of Lake Town."

"Welcome," Thorin said. "This is my betrothed, Bilbo Baggins, and these are my heirs, Fili and Kili. I assume that you know their wives?" 

"I'm grateful to meet you, and yes, I know Sigrid and Tauriel," Broen said easily. "I don't want to interrupt your breakfast, but there is much to discuss and I admit I'm nervous enough about the dragon to want to get started immediately."

"As long as you don't mind Dwarrow manners," Bilbo said, as he passed Broen a plate. "Among Hobbits it's rude to talk about business during anything but tea. Dwarrow on the other hand, are quite pleased to talk about anything at all as long as you join them!"

"Aye!" Fili, (and the rest of the Company), agreed as he handed over ales to the Men. "We know that you've made preparations, but we don't know what they are yet. Our plans are rather simple. Smaug isn't to leave the mountain. We'll be discussing exactly how to manage that today, the where to kill him and how to get him there, but it's always good to know what your allies are planning as well."

"I still say that the treasury isn't a good place to kill him," Kili threw in. "We're going to have enough trouble cleansing the treasure without having to deal with the corpse as well."

"Our plans are rather simple as well where Smaug is concerned," Bard admitted. "We'll be moving everyone and everything to Dale when you make your attempt. If it fails, and Smaug attacks Lake Town again, I'll be waiting with the windlance and the last Black Arrow. As I said before, I pray that I am not needed."

"You won't be," Thorin said proudly. "It's not so much a problem of actually killing the wyrm thanks to Mahal granting Kili a weapon that can kill him as it is getting him into a position where Kili can do so and dealing with the corpse after. All we have to do is insult him enough and he'll chase us right to where Kili needs him to be."

"Not into the hall by the great forges again," Fili piped up. "We're going to need at least half of them functional if we're going to heat the mountain this Winter."

"It's the logistics you see," Thorin told the Men, waving his hand around the table. "Everyone has some part in the plan and all of it needs to be considered before we set out. We know the how and the who and even how to get the blasted drake there. It's simply the where that's in question."

"Your plan of moving your people to Dale is a good one," Bilbo said, pondering the move. "Smaug knows that no one lives in Dale and that all of the Men live in Lake Town. He even knows that you have a trade in wine with the Elves. He won't be expecting that anyone has moved back to Dale, not that we expect him to leave the mountain, but it's a good choice. It'll be easier to move all of your people into the mountain for the battle and the Winter from there."

"You want us IN the mountain????" Broen gasped. Bard simply looked stunned.

Thorin looked at the somberly. "We do not expect Smaug to destroy Lake Town, but we do expect the Orcs to do so," he explained. Balin handed over a map of the area and Thorin showed them the route they expected the Orcs to take. "See, they will pass right by Lake Town, especially as there will be an easy road for them to follow."

"An easy road? There's nothing out there," Broen protested.

"There isn't now, but there will be," Bofur said with a grin. "Our people are building the East/West road again."

"Aye, they should be here just after young Kili here kills Smaug," Gloin said. He turned to Legolas. "My family is in the first of the two caravans for this year," he warned the prince. Legolas merely nodded his head at the information, but took a bigger gulp of his ale out of sudden nerves.

"Two caravans?" Broen asked. This was something he was more suited to. Caravans and trade were what he and his people knew.

"Yes, they will be mostly my people, as we Hobbits will be settling some of the lands near Erebor. We plan to have two settlements eventually, one near Erebor and one near the Mirkwood so that we can heal the land of the poison that's been sunk into it," Bilbo explained. "There will be nearly two thousand Hobbits here within a few weeks time, and the Dwarrow are building the road that they're using to get here. I'm not certain how many Dwarrow and Elves will be coming with them but it won't be an inconsiderable number."

"Oh thank the Valar!" Bard said and explained about the grain that his Men had found.

Bilbo waved the explanation away. "Easily dealt with for our Land Healers," he said. "It will have to wait until Spring and may take a year or two, but Dale's lands will be cleansed."

"And until then, I invite all of the Men to live in the mountain. There will be plenty of work for all and the Hobbits will be bringing enough supplies to last us all until next Spring," Thorin said.

"We have been preparing our own Winter stores and caching them in a few buildings near the Forest River," Broen explained. "I think that this year, with the amount of food we've managed to store and purchase, and the firewood from Mirkwood we're better off than we were for the last few Winters."

"Yes, but the mountain will shield us all from the Winter storms better than the ruins of Dale," Fili pointed out. "We won't force you into anything, but really, it's the shelter that we're mostly offering. We don't know who is going to make it through the battle, nor how many will be wounded, but we've a few large, warm spaces for infirmaries and for people to live while waiting for Dale be rebuilt or for their wounds to heal, as well as healers from the Elves, Hobbits and us Dwarrow to help tend the wounded. I do believe that your people would be better off, at least for the coming Winter in the mountain."

"What of the curse on the gold?" Bard asked. "I know that it will ensnare Men as well as Dwarrow."

"We cannot break all of the curse at once, but we can break it enough for everyone to live in the mountain until that is finished without the curse infecting them," Thorin said. "I am hoping that your people will be willing to help with that."

"How," both Bard and Broen wanted to know.

Bilbo leaned forward. "Well, the curse is rather like a nasty magical oil that's been collecting on the gold. It needs to be washed off by salt water and then the gold has to be dried in a clean flame. That's one of the reasons that we need the great forges in working order. Once that's been done, the gold will be safe to be used."

"We will wash all of the gold at once, flood the treasury with salt water before we allow anyone other than my Company into the mountain," Thorin explained. "That will wash most of the curse away. It won't be enough to completely break the curse, but once it is done, then we can have people come in and wash the gold piece by piece before the washed gold is taken to one of the forges to be dried. It will take years for the job to be completed, but I will not spread gold-sickness."

"Be a good job for little ones or those without a lot of strength," Bofur said, as Bifur signed away in inglishmek. He nodded at his cousin. "They'd get paid a fair wage, help all of us out by doing the washing, and Bifur and I think we can keep the water warm as well so they don't get too cold at the job."

"Of course, as Bilbo said, we want to move all of your people who are not fighters into the mountain for the battle if nothing else," Thorin said. "If we take Dale out of the battle by not having anyone for the Orcs to go after, concentrate the battle at the gates of Erebor, then we won't have to split up our armies."

"That's what they did last time, and it cost us dearly. Not to mention the second army coming from the North to pinch us between them. If we'd been fighting before Erebor's gates, then they wouldn't have been able to get behind us," Tauriel said. She turned to Kili. "No scouting Ravenhill on your own!"

"I've already had that talk with Fili," Sigrid said firmly. "As well as the talk about actually wearing armor!" Both of them glared at the repentant Dwarrow.

Fili offered up a promise. "We will not go unarmored, nor will the two of you. In fact, you should both have your armor completed soon after Smaug's death, a day or three at most."

"I'm not certain, it will have to wait until my people get here, but the Orcs will probably find Ravenhill a less than welcoming place for them," Bilbo said. "From what I remember, Ravenhill might actually be a good place to put our Bounders during the battle."

"Bounders?" Bard asked.

"The border patrol usually but they also serve as the foundation of any military should we need them as such. The last time was nearly two hundred years ago, but the Bounders are still trained for it," Bilbo explained. "My people are not seen unless they wish to be seen, especially the Bounders who are the best at the art. Oh, and by the way, we Hobbits have two traditions you'll need to know about. Farmers will have help from all of us in the planting and harvesting in turn for simply chasing off any scrumping tweens from their fields. It's one of the ways we train our young in the ways of being unseen. If they're caught, they're to be scolded and sent back out to try again. We also keep a low windowsill in our homes where pies and such are placed to cool. Faunts are encouraged to sneak the goodies off of the windowsill without getting caught and everyone knows that the baked goods set on those windowsills are specifically for that purpose. That way no one loses a pie or something that they cannot afford to."

The entire table went dead silent at Bilbo's explanation. He continued. "It's because we're so much smaller than the rest of you, you see. A Hobbit can get into some serious trouble if he or she is seen by someone who means them ill, and as there are a great number of nasty creatures out there," he gestured towards the Mirkwood and the mountain, "it's best to keep up that training. A Hobbit with a good skill set under their belt can disappear long before any of that sort can come close enough to see them, much less hunt them down."

"Sounds to me like they'd make wonderful scouts then," Broen said.

Bilbo grinned. "I've heard many a Bounder drinking down at the Green Dragon Inn bragging about scaring a Man clean off his horse by popping up and telling him he needs to turn around before he gets into trouble."

Amid the laughter Thorin returned the subject to Smaug. "I think that the best place to kill Smaug is the Hall of Kings," he said. "The beast will fit in there, there's little for him to harm, and I think that Kili will find a good perch on one of the statues that line the hall."

"One of the statues still has all of the scaffolding, right?" Kili said, pulling the image from his memory. "I mean, I think that was a statue, or at least a statue still in the construction stages. There wasn't much left when I was in there."

"Aye," Thorin sighed. "The statue was to be 65 feet tall, and the scaffolding is 70 feet. The scaffolding and the casting mold are still there."

Kili nodded. "Then that sounds like the best place. There's a good perch and plenty of room to dismember the corpse. Now all the rest of you have to do is not get scorched when you bring him my way!"

"Mmm, that and make certain that he turns his left breast in your direction," Fili said. He gave Bard a short bow. "It's thanks to your ancestor, Lord Girion that we have a chance with Mahal's arrows. The Black Arrows that he shot at Smaug as he attacked Dale struck the beast and carved off a scale on his left breast. If he'd had time for one more arrow, none of us would be sitting here right now." 

"Here, here!" and many lifted tankards of ale came from the rest of the Company.

"Thank you," Bard said. "It is good that someone remembers his last stand as something more than a failure."

Thorin shook his head. "I was there, Bard. I faced Smaug that day with a battalion of Dwarrow and my father at my side. I know how swiftly that creature can move on his feet, and he moves even more swiftly through the air. None of us stood a chance against him, and he damned well knew it."

"He wouldn't have attacked if he didn't have that advantage, coward that he is," grumbled Gloin.

"Would your people be willing to help with the butchering?" Bilbo asked. "Smaug is huge and it's going to be quite the job."

Bard turned to Sigrid. "Sigrid, my girl, do you think that the ladies of the town would be willing? I know that most of them are more familiar with that sort of work than most of the Men." Unmentioned between the two of them was the fact that most of the Men in Lake Town made their living on the lake. They were more used to gutting fish than meat animals. The women however, there wasn't a single one who hadn't taken apart a meat animal for dinner at least once a week. The hunters brought in animals from the forest and the shore, and the smaller animals were often left intact, which was often all that the poorer families could purchase.

"That's a good idea, Da," Sigrid said. "I know that more than a few women would be willing."

"I wonder if he's edible?" Bombur asked. "That's a large amount of meat to waste if he is."

"Well, I can check, but I really don't think that would be a good idea," Bilbo said, as most of the people around the table made faces at the very idea of eating the dragon. "I do know that the scales, teeth and hide are of value, however. Orcrist's hilt is made from a dragon's tooth for instance."

"We Wood Elves would be willing to pay for some of those," Legolas offered, turning the conversation to the possible trade items that could be made from Smaug. The planning session lasted the rest of the day, and several small agreements were already in the works by dark.


	29. Chapter 29

September 2

Rukuc had never thought of squirrels as dangerous. That was before he had entered Mirkwood Forest. He cursed as he washed out the wounds on a fellow Dwarrow's arm. "Here," Elrond said, as he handed over a thin paste of kingsfoil. "Anything that attacks a full grown Dwarrow in this forest should be considered possibly poisonous. The athelas will draw out any poison and speed the healing, and there should be more to harvest in Lake Town. I'm told that they use it as pig feed."

"They must be the healthiest pigs in all of Arda," Arwen quipped from the other side of the tent. She was making the paste and handing it out to any of the apprentices and volunteers who asked for it.

"Twelve bites and numerous scratches, some so deep that it hit bone," Rukuc growled. He knew that Arwen was trying to cheer him up, but he'd much rather that it was Holly making the paste. She was so busy with helping get the sunflowers planted that they'd barely seen each other for weeks. Mealtimes were the only times that either of them had free. He missed her and he hated these injuries that were taking him away from her. "FROM SQUIRRELS! Not giant spiders, not filth such as Orcs or Goblins; they aren't even big enough to hit with an axe! The only weapons that hit the Mahal cursed things are the Hobbits' slings and conkers, and we need them to do what they're doing with the flowers!"

"The Enemy has lived here for nearly four centuries, Rukuc," Elrond reminded him. "We are lucky that all that these squirrels are doing is biting and scratching. They could have grown as large as the spiders or been strong enough to bite through limbs completely. The bites may be deep, but they are still small."

Rukuc sighed, but he knew the Elf was right. "Still, squirrels are not supposed to be so dangerous as this. They are prey animals for Mahal's sake!"

"Yes, and I must wonder what it is that preys on them," Elrond pointed out as he moved to the next wounded Dwarrow. The blasted squirrels were mostly targeting them for some reason. Rukuc thought it had something to do with the light the Elves gave off. Most evil things avoided such light. The Hobbits of course were filled with the Green Lady's touch and were using that to create their flower path. Of course the animals of the forest were avoiding them. It was the Dwarrow who were bringing the trees down, and thus the animals' ire down on their heads. 

"Now that's a cheerful thought!" Rukuc retorted. "If you have chainmail, I suggest that you wear it!" he told his patient. "The Lord Elf is right that these squirrels aren't the most dangerous animals out there."

The Dwarrow grunted. "I was wearing my mail," he said. "I'm not stupid enough not to. I got caught by a lot of the blasted things. They chewed the vambraces off and shoved the mail up my arm with their feet as they tried to chew my fingers off. That's where the scratches come from. Couldn't shake the things off and no one could shoot them because they were clinging to my arm. Had to pull each and every one of the things off of my arm by hand! Had to slit their tiny throats to get them to stop biting!"

Rukuc groaned. If these things were figuring out how to get around the Dwarrows' armor things were really looking bleak. At least the second caravan should catch up with them any day now and the Elves estimated that they were now three quarters of the way through the forest. With any luck, reinforcements would turn the tables on the animals, and they could continue to avoid anything that was bigger than the squirrels. He groaned again when he saw that his next patient had two squirrel heads still attached to his leg. Rukuc was never going to underestimate the animals ever again!

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Kili and Dori stood in front of the smithy of Lake Town measuring Lake Town's guardsmen for new chainmail. Bilbo stood ready to take down the measurements so that each Man got what would fit him as soon as possible. Most of the Dwarrow were already hard at work making the new mail, as the mail worn by the Men was of the worst sort. The weapons and armor among the Men of Lake Town was, to be perfectly blunt, almost worthless. None of it was as bad as Orc armor and weaponry, and Sauron's creatures did a lot of damage with those, but still - the only ones that would be even intimidated by what the Men had were those who had nothing, as it may have looked good but was worthless in combat. Which was what the former Master did, Fili thought. It was no wonder so few of the Men had survived the battle, not with armor that could be pulled apart with bare hands.

Thorin was examining the swords and other weapons the Men had. Fili had seen him close his eyes in actual pain at the sight more than once. "There's more weapons inside the mountain, Uncle," Fili reminded Thorin in a whisper as he passed his uncle with a shovel of coal for the forge.

"Thank Mahal for that!," Thorin whispered in turn as he turned to Bard. "Your bows are well made, and we can make more arrowheads for arrows in the time that we have. In fact, if your town has another smithy or can make a temporary forge the Elves are quite good at that. The swords though, they're mostly worthless. I would not give even a raw recruit one as a practice blade for fear it would shatter the first time it made contact with anything."

Bard sighed. "I know, but we have nothing else. The last Master of Lake Town was not one to spend on anyone but himself if he could avoid it."

Thorin nodded. "There are weapons in the mountain, as Fili reminded me. The armories are still full and time will not have done damage to most of them. I would not trust anything made with wood or that uses a bowstring for time will have eaten away at them, but the swords and such should still be in good shape. We'll arm your Men better and try to make certain that they have armor that will actually be of use. The armor will be the hardest. What we have is made for Dwarrow, and your Men will have a hard time stuffing themselves into it unless we can get it adjusted before the Orcs get here."

"That's one of the reasons we're making riveted rings," Fili put in as he checked the heat of the forge. "It is easy to adjust chainmail, although it takes time." He nodded to where Ori and Nori were taking apart the mail that several Men had brought in to the smithy. Ori had inherited the Ri strength, much like his sister Dori, not that it was really needed to rip apart the butted mail that the Men were using. Nori wasn't having any difficulties at all with the mail, and as far as Fili knew he hadn't inherited the Ri line's famous strength, although he was a formidable foe even without it. They quickly pulled the mail apart and piled the open rings into a bucket for Fili to rework. That was quite easy as each ring was already formed, they just needed to be riveted, and then four riveted rings mounted on a single solid ring, and from there each riveted ring was attached to yet another solid ring. 

Balin and Dwalin were the sons of one of Erebor's most famous generals. They knew armor and weapons like the back of their hands. Their father had insisted that they know how to maintain their weapons and armor from the time they were pebbles. Even though Balin's Craft was that of statecraft rather than that of the way of the warrior, Fundin had insisted that Balin's work with the royal family meant that he had to be able to take out an enemy at a moment's notice. The Steward, at least among Dwarrow, was not only a position of politics, but that of an anonymous bodyguard as well. He had to know both weapons and armor in order to fulfill that position. 

Dwalin well, he had followed in his father's footsteps and was now a Weaponsmaster and Thorin's Captain of the Guard. He could spot a bad section of armor as easily as he breathed, and was able to repair or replace that armor just as easily. He wasn't up to Thorin's caliber of weapons forging, for that was where Thorin's mastery lay, but he wasn't that far off either. 

Gloin too, held a warrior's mastery. His specialty was axe work, but forging armor was not something he was a stranger at. He often weaved chainmail together of an evening with his wife after Gimli had gone to bed. It was something the two of them could do together as a couple that also brought them in more gold. Men still craved Dwarven armor, and having taken a look at what the Men here had, Gloin had not wondered why.

Bifur and Bofur were helping as well. Bifur was a warrior and had the same training as Dwalin and Gloin, even though his first mastery was in mining and engineering. Bofur on the other hand, his training was less in the manner of warfare than it was in the making of toys and mining. Those toys often had small metal parts, and thus Fili had given him the task of making the rivets, something that he could honestly make in his sleep he'd made them so often for his toys. 

The local blacksmith was fascinated with the Dwarven method of linking the rings together with rivets as well as using larger, heavier wire for the rings and watched the entire process with an eagle eye as he helped Bifur. Bifur was making solid rings. Metal wire was wrapped around a small pole, and then Thorin's precious mithril knife, (no larger than a Hobbit's longest finger, inherited from his grandfather and brought with them out of Erebor in his grandfather's boot), was heated and run down the wrapped pole. The open rings slid off the pole and into a trough once the hot knife had finished cutting through the wire. Bifur then took the open rings and hammered them closed. 

The closed rings were passed to Dwalin. The buckets of open rings were given to Fili, who gave them punched ends for riveting, and then passed them on to Gloin. Bofur passed his rivets on to Balin. Dwalin, Balin and Gloin wove both types of rings together in the correct pattern, closing the rings with rivets as they did so. The resulting mail was far superior to the butted mail that the Men had been forced to use for years and the job went even faster after Thorin joined with those weaving the mail.

The entire process was a swifter one than the Men looking on could imagine. By breaking down the work into the smaller tasks, each Dwarf was able to go faster than if he was to work on the entire process. Each Dwarf was also given the job that he was quickest at, thus speeding the job even more. With each Dwarf having decades of experience no motion was wasted. All of this resulted in mail that came together in less than half the time it would have taken the blacksmith, and as there were so many Dwarrow working at the job instead of the single blacksmith, some of Lake Town's archers were walking out of the smithy with a mail vest that very day. Not many it was true, and the Dwarrow knew that most of the mail armor that the Men would be wearing in the battle would come from the armories in Erebor suitably adjusted, (taking in the sides and adding some length should do the job and only take a few hours each), but every little bit helped as there were nearly a thousand Men to outfit and they had time on their hands waiting for Durin's day.

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September 10

Sunlight; blessed, blessed sunlight! Holly breathed in the light and clear air as her wagon finally cleared the last of Mirkwood just ahead of the second caravan. They were a full week behind, but they had all survived the trip through Mirkwood forest. Rukuc and the other healers hadn't lost anyone, although more Dwarrow had joined those who now had to ride on the wagons as invalids. They were all victims of the spiders, although Rukuc had said that most of the Dwarrow had squirrel bites. 

Holly had seen more than one Dwarrow with at least one squirrel hanging off of them by the teeth, and most often more than one. It had been a sobering sight. Mirkwood squirrels were not the same as the ones in the Shire. For one thing, they were nearly three times the size of those she'd known all her life. For another, they were horribly aggressive. Squirrels in the Shire would chatter at those who got too close to their trees, perhaps even throw a nut or two, but they would never actually attack a person, no matter how small. Not so with the Mirkwood squirrels, and more than a few Dwarrow had become jumpy because of it. She would have laughed at them if she had not seen how the animals had gone mad herself.

Bluebell and a few others had gone around skinning all of the squirrels who had died attacking Dwarrow. The furs would be a good resource this Winter, but no one wanted to attempt to see if the meat was any good for food. There was nothing that grew in this forest, at least on this end of it, that was conductive to preserving life. 

Holly suspected that the seeds she and the other Land Healers had sown would do more than just purge the roadway of the evil soaked into the ground. There was a particular feel to the seeds, as if each seed contained a bit of the light in and of itself. Plus, even as they carried large bowls of seed away from the wagons for planting, the barrels of sunflower seeds never emptied. In fact, the barrels never seemed to be anything other than full. Holly had some heavy suspicions as to why, but Holly would never question the Green Lady on what matters the Valar chose to meddle with. She was simply grateful that there had been enough seeds to do the job and enough left over to begin the work at Erebor. 

Erebor - they could see the mountain now. It wasn't more than a vague shape on the horizon, but Holly had seen more than one Dwarrow actually weeping at the sight. She might not ever understand that, as she had never been driven from her home or suffered any of the horrible things that the Dwarrow had in the years since Smaug had taken over the mountain, but she sympathized. To have your home stolen was one of the worst things she could ever imagine happening to someone, and she was grateful that her family had never been subject to it. 

There was also a grim determination descending on the Hobbits now that Holly could almost feel. Hobbits might not be warriors, although amongst Hobbits the Bounders qualified, but they were the best in all of Arda in turning a place into a home. They knew the small things that a home needed, like good food well shared and little comforts like a soft bed and your family around you at night. Preparing for the battle and the Winter was all well and good, but these Dwarrow needed a home first and foremost. 

Most of the Hobbits in the caravans had come because the Green Lady had sent them, for the adventure or for a chance at a farm or business of their own. Most had not thought about the Dwarrows needing their home returned to them, at least they had not fully realized it until now. Now they were not only confronted with that fact, because by now they all knew that Dwarrow did not shed tears easily, but because they also were now friends with many of the Dwarrow personally, and quite a few had found their Soul Matches in the sons of Mahal. No Hobbit worth the hair on their feet would ever allow a friend to suffer from having a shelter rather than a home. That lonely mountain was going to be a true Home. No matter what the Hobbits had to do to make it so.

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Deep inside Erebor the vast treasure hoard glimmered in the gloom. Piles of gold coins, jewels of every shape and size, chests filled with hidden wonders, and ceremonial armor lay everywhere. No birds flew through the chamber as they once did, looking for Dwarrow with a message or trying to find a shiny to sneak off with. There were no longer any Dwarrow to make the mountain sing with their songs and work at the great forges. The once great forges were ashen cold, and had been for over a century. No great or small marvel was being made. 

There was no sound.

Not until a heaving sigh came from beneath the treasure, and a small scattering of coins fell away from one of the drifts. Smaug the Terrible, greatest of calamities, turned over in his sleep.

All was once more silent as the dragon's breath returned to a small, silent hiss - and the dragon slumbered on, buried beneath his ill gotten treasure.


	30. Chapter 30

September 12

Tauriel and Sigrid were working on their weapons at Bard's home, Tauriel fletching arrows and Sigrid sharpening her new sword, when Fili, Kili, Elladan and Elrohir swept into the room. "We're not here," Fili said as he kissed Sigrid's cheek before hurrying to the children's bedroom.

"What did you do?" Tauriel asked suspiciously.

"Not much," Kili grinned, the twins echoing him, before all three of them scurryed after Fili. The ladies sighed and continued as though they had never seen their husbands. 

"That's going to happen a lot, isn't it?" Sigrid asked. She wasn't really worried about it. Bain was quite the prankster when he could afford to be so, and she wasn't above pulling a prank herself. Plus there had been no few young Men and Dwarrow in her patrol squad. Pranks were inevitable.

"Yes," Tauriel sighed. "I honestly don't care right now how many Elven warriors or Healers Lord Elrond is bringing. No one should have introduced those four. Fili and Kili are quite bad enough on their own. They don't need help."

"How do you know?" Sigrid asked, curious as always about their Dwarrow.

Tauriel gave a sad smile. "I was with those who brought word to the Lady Dis of her family's fall. I tried to return Kili's runestone to her, but she refused. One of the others had told her about Kili and I, and she could see how I mourned him. She told me quite a few tales of her boys. Such as the time that they stole all of Dwalin's clothes and replaced them with her best dress."

"Dwalin, in a dress?" Sigrid asked with a strangled voice. The very idea was both laughable and horrifying.

Tauriel nodded with a laugh of her own. "It gets even worse. Dwalin is much taller than Lady Dis, so much so that her skirts did not reach his ankles - and they had stolen his boots as well."

"Oh no!" Sigrid laughed. She shouldn't laugh at the Weaponsmaster, she knew that, but oh the image!

"Yes, and the twins are rather famous for their pranks as well. Thranduil was on a visit of state with Legolas' mother, as I recall it had something to do with a trade of healing herbs for dyes or some such, and the twins dyed Thranduil's hair bright green. No one would admit to Thranduil that it was them, but as it made the Queen laugh for days Thranduil put up with it," Tauriel said. "I was new to the household then, and had been brought along so that the healers could examine me and make certain that I and the rest of the elflings were growing well. I only knew it was them because I'd seen them sneaking in with the bottle."

Bard entered the main room of his home. "If you know where your husbands and their friends are, I suggest they lay low for a day or two. They've been pulling pranks and no matter how funny they are, I can't be seen as not condemning them for it." 

"Who was the victim this time?" Sigrid said.

"It was Alfrid," Bard complained. "They went and somehow got insects to infest his belongings. I'm not sure how, and I'm not sure I want to know. The worst part is that he came complaining to me. I have no idea what he thinks I can do about it. All four of the scoundrels are princes, and more than half of Lake Town is laughing about it, saying that he deserved every bug."

Sigrid snorted. "He does deserve it. He refuses to help prepare and last time he went and dressed up as a female in order to escape the fighting. He ended up being eaten by a troll."

"One can only hope," Tauriel said plainly. She had no use for those who shirked their duties.

"Oh don't you start," Bard grumbled. "I have enough trouble with Alfrid and his cronies. I don't want to find out what sort of trouble they can stir up if they hear you." Sigrid laughed and went to get him a bowl of stew. If she could not help him with his troubles, she could at least feed him. 

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September 20

Lake Town's people were moving on the lake shore, looking back over their shoulders at their town and the single Man who stood at it's gate. Bard the Bowman stood watching as his people began their trip to Dale, leaving him behind, his family's safety firmly in the hands of the Dwarrow. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins were the last to leave Lake Town; Thorin just behind Bilbo. 

As his boots finally hit the shore, Thorin turned and bowed to Bard, giving him full honors for the task the Man was undertaking. Yes, it was a job that they all thought and hoped would not be needed, but the Man was still volunteering to take on a dragon for the sake of his people. To stay alone in Lake Town for 10 days, and then to stand in the town's tallest tower, armed with only a single arrow waiting for the dragon to fly - and if Smaug did, then to use the Black arrow to kill the beast, all the while not knowing how his children fared.

Bard was full of courage, honor and bravery, and Thorin could not let that go unacknowledged. So he gave the Man the full bow that was given only to a monarch. Truly, by custom he should never have given that bow to any but his own father and grandfather, but Bard was earning it. This was what it meant to be a king, to stand in front of your people and take on their cares and defend them as only a king can. Thorin had learned this lesson at his mother's knee. Bard was learning it now, as a grown Man, but he would be a far better king now that he had learned it. Thorin was not uneasy about Dale now. Bard would be a good king and neighbor for Erebor to have, especially with his eldest as Fili's One.

Behind him Bilbo and the Dwarrow genuflected as well. Tauriel and Sigrid made full curtsies and the Elves honored Bard with salutes and bows. Startled by their actions, in fits and starts the people of Lake Town did the same. Then they parted. One group traveled towards the Forest River, there to wait until Durin's Day in the small group of buildings with their food stores. Those parents with the smallest children, those unable to be silent for long periods as well as those who were needed to take care of things went with this group, escorted by the Elves. Everyone else headed for Dale.

It would take just over a week to move from Lake Town to Dale. That there was no road across the Desolation would slow things down, as well as the fact that most people had to carry everything they had on their backs. Too many animals would wake the dragon ahead of time, as well as the fact that they would be needed to transport the Winter stores to the mountain after Durin's Day. If there had been any way that Thorin could have had the stone masons working on the East/West road here ahead of Durin's Day he would have gladly done so. It invoked too many memories to watch Sigrid lead the people of Lake Town to Dale.

Over the next week Thorin gained a new appreciation for Sigrid. She took to leadership of the town's people easily; mediating terse disputes with ease, encouraging fearful people, and just generally being the one that her people looked to. Her manner was matter of fact, and that in itself went far in reassuring people that what was being done was the best option. The more he watched her, the more hopeful he was about the next Queen under the Mountain.

Tauriel shadowed Sigrid most of the day, already taking up her position of her law-sister's bodyguard. The two of them presented a unified front, one that was deeply dependable. While Fili and Kili went out of their way to make everyone around them cheerful, from silly songs sung quietly around what would have been a campfire meal to jokes and cheerful bragging about their chances with Smaug during the day, (something that he knew for a fact was fake. Fili and Kili had both had screaming night terrors for months before the quest had begun again about that blasted dragon), the ladies' quiet confidence was as strong as the bones of the world. 

Just from these few days Thorin could see the future of Erebor in those four. There would not only be good relations with Dale and the Woodland, there would also be a solid team on the throne of Erebor for her people to look to. He had to make certain that they all survived the battle.

They reached Dale the morning of the day before Durin's Day. It took most of that day to settle the Men in Dale. Sigrid worked hard settling families in different homes and halls, making certain that everyone was well placed. Thorin did not begrudge them the time. The Men were as quiet as they could have asked for, quieter even. It was a certain pair of Elves in their midst that were giving him a headache as he and the Company got ready to leave for Erebor the next morning. "I've never fought a dragon," one of the twins persisted.

"No," Thorin said bluntly. He'd been saying it for weeks now. He could see Bilbo's shoulders shaking with laughter, although the Hobbit didn't make a sound as he repacked his bedroll. 

"But you'll need every advantage!" came from the other. Thorin still could not tell the two of them apart, even though Fili and Kili had managed the feat.

"No," Thorin said again, and caught sight of Glorfindel rolling his eyes at the twins from beside the door out of Dale's town hall where they had spent the night. The Balrog slayer had faced dragons before his famous duel and had no wish to face Smaug even knowing that he would be killed. With the wisdom that being Twice-Born had brought him, Thorin did not see this as cowardice. He'd faced Smaug twice now, and honestly saw this as only an unpleasant duty to his people and to those realms close by Erebor, one that he too would have passed on if so much hadn't been riding on it. He was past the age that glory called to him, and revenge had been burned out of him with the gold-sickness.

Thorin sighed. "Once more - if you enter the mountain before we've had a chance to cleanse the gold, you will catch the dragon sickness. It is a terrible illness and one that I will not allow you to fall to. Your father is an ally. I will not send his sons into madness simply because they want to see a dragon! If you want to see Smaug so badly, you can join the group butchering his carcass." Thorin and Glorfindel laughed at the face the twins pulled at the thought of that messy job, and Thorin turned to the older Elf. "Keep these two out of trouble, will you? I know it is an almost impossible task, but it's just for a few days. After that we're all going to be too busy for them to get into too much trouble." He hoisted his pack onto his back.

"Oh yes, leave me with the hard task!" Glorfindel mock protested. 

"Better you than us!" Dwalin said bluntly as he passed Glorfindel on his way out.

"Aye!" Bofur agreed as he, his brother and cousin followed Dwalin.

Thorin could sympathize, but he really didn't bother. Frustrated the pranksters might be, but they would not jeopardize the quest now. "Help Sigrid and Tauriel keep things going here. We enter the mountain tonight, and Smaug should be dead within a few hours after moonrise," he told them.

"We'll signal when Smaug is dead, and we'll open the gates when we've finished with flooding the treasury," Fili promised Glorfindel. He had Sigrid by the hand and his pack over his shoulder. It was only now that Thorin could see apprehension on Sigrid's face. He knew very well that she wasn't as calm and confident as she had appeared to be to her people. He could well remember his own time leading a displaced people and did not begrudge her, her fears. In fact he was quite proud of how she had kept them to herself over the last few days. That she only was showing it now, as Fili went to be chased by a dragon, one that she remembered destroying her childhood home, was more than understandable - it showed just how well she and Fili were getting on that she feared for him.

"I'll make certain that everyone knows that Smaug is dead as soon as the deed is done," Thorin promised. 

Bilbo finished tying his bedroll to his pack and stood at Thorin's shoulder. "It's time," he said plainly. "We four are the last."

Thorin looked around. Fili stood near them, and at Bilbo's words he and Sigrid gave each other a careful head touch goodbye. If they had wanted to do more, it was not possible. Far too many of the Men were in the hall watching for them to be anything but dignified. That did not stop Kili and Tauriel however. Those two were locked in a passionate kiss.

Fili reluctantly let go of Sigrid's hand and went to thump Kili on his shoulder. "Come on, you. Sooner started, sooner done." Kili reluctantly let go of his Elf and with a great sigh, followed his brother out the door. Bilbo came after, leading Thorin.

"Good luck," Glorfindel said quietly, as Thorin reached the door. For once, there was no mirth in the ancient Elf's eyes. He knew, as few did, just what the Company was facing in confronting Smaug and it was obvious that he did not envy them.

Thorin nodded, but said. "Mahal is watching over us, and has given us all he can to help us. Now we must do our part and stand and face the danger. We'll see you at sunrise."

This time it was Bilbo who lead the Company over the path from Dale to Erebor, for of those who remembered the way, he knew it best. For Thorin the trip was fraught with memories, none of them pleasant. He'd thought that he'd faced them over the course of his journey. The worst of course had been what he'd done to Bilbo in his madness, attempting to throw him down from the battlements. The two of them had worked through it - a word here and a word there as they stood night watch together, cleansing the deep wounds little by little, but the very sight of those battlements were still enough to make him flinch. 

But that wasn't the only memory that Thorin had to face. Kili, practically spitting in his face as he decried Thorin's decision to leave Dain and his Dwarrow to face the Orcs alone. Bard, coming to plead for help for his people. Thranduil, wanting his stolen memories back, but too proud to say just what it was that was stolen from him. His Company, many of them turning from him in sorrow as the madness took him ever deeper, even as they came out of it.

"They're only memories, Uncle. Thanks to them, we know what not to do. Bilbo's got the ring in Mahal's box so it won't do Sauron's dirty work for him. Mahal has promised that we won't get taken by the gold-sickness. We'll get it right this time," Fili whispered when he noticed that Thorin had closed his eyes in pain.

"Memories of that sort are rarely so easily dispersed, Fili," Thorin said with a sigh. "It's not just that I went gold-mad. It's not even just how I treated all of you, including my One which was a crime beyond the naming of. The worst part was that I thought my mind was clear, and everything made sense. At least it did until I snapped out of it, and it wasn't even trying to kill Bilbo that did so! Everything that everyone had told me, had asked me, began to echo in my mind - slowly at first, until they rang with the strength of a thousand bells and I began to see things that were not there. I saw Smaug, swimming through the gold, and then myself drowning in it. My own vow not to become my grandfather - I could practically feel the horror of becoming Thror echoing through me like I was a great bell that had been struck by the largest of hammers, and that was when I threw away the Raven Crown and the madness with it."

Fili nodded, but pointed out quite simply. "But you did throw it away and the madness with it, and it will not come again. You have refused to allow any to come into the mountain until most of the curse is washed from the gold, and you have said that not even Thranduil will get his gems back until they are clear of it. We will make this right."

"Yes," Thorin sighed as he straightened to his full height. "We will make it right, and Bilbo has already found the stairs to the hidden door."

"Oh good. Now I finally get to see that dragon when he's on the ground," Fili joked. The two of them stood there watching for a moment as each of the Company followed the Hobbit up the hidden stairs. "By the way, is it just me, or is that the stupidest thing to do with your memories that any idiot has ever come up with?" Fili asked with a straight face.

It shouldn't have worked, but it did. Thorin was laughing as he began to hike up the stairs.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bifur's Khudzul insult to Smaug - Sakhgirabi kana zazn tada yazarnu darah sereja gairu - You smell so foul even the trolls left the cave.

October 1 - Durin's Day

Bard silently prepared the top of the tower that held the windlance. He was in for a long night and he knew it. Sigrid, Bain and Tilda had reached Dale by now, and Bard knew that the plan was for them and everyone not of the Company to hunker down in silence until morning. By then Smaug should be dead, one way or another. He checked the windlance one more time and set the Black Arrow inside the device. 

Now all he had to do was wait for nightfall. He'd been practicing shots with the windlance, and with the Black Arrow using his longbow for the last month, as well as taking advice from Tauriel and Legolas as he practiced night shots. Their expertise with the bow and shooting under dark conditions was amazing, and he felt a great deal better about taking the shot after their tutelage. That did not mean that he actually wanted to see Smaug fly, or to be the one responsible for killing the dragon.

Bard scrubbed his face with his hands. He'd had it up to his neck with responsibilities, but he'd heard his people talking. They were expecting him to take over the rule of Dale, and Tauriel had confirmed that he had done so before. He was not his ancestor, who by all accounts had been a good and fair ruler in his time. He was but an archer and a bargeman, husband to a shieldmaid who had gone ahead to the Halls of Mandos. His greatest feat was in raising three children. What did he know of ruling a city?

Nonetheless, if Bard did not take up the rule he knew perfectly well that they would try and make Bain take it on. Bard shuddered to think of his young son being forced into that position because he was too afraid to take up the mantle. No, he would not do that to his boy. He would at least make certain that Bain was a full grown Man, properly taught how to rule before he let anyone set a crown on the boy's head. Idly he wondered if Balin would be willing to tutor Bain as he did Fili and Kili. The Dwarf was well educated, and for that matter so was Bilbo. It wouldn't hurt if either of them was willing to part with a few lessons in what it took to rule a city. He'd honestly be better off if he asked for some of those lessons for himself as well.

Bard stretched and turned from the windlance to scan the shoreline. This watch would hopefully be a study in boredom. Nothing was moving....well nothing should have been moving, but he suddenly spied a mass headed his way. Could the Orcs be early?

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Sigrid and Tauriel sat side by side on the dais of the old town hall, clutching each other's hand. No one spoke, few hardly dared to breathe. More than one set of sympathetic eyes looked at the ladies time and time again. Everyone knew that their husbands would face Smaug at sunset. No one knew if they would survive the attempt. No few women prayed silently for the Dwarrow, and felt a great relief that their own husbands were not the ones facing the dragon.

All they could do was wait.

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Bard cursed as he hurried down out of the tower. The mass he had seen was not the Orcs. It was the caravan, or perhaps both of them, that was bringing the Hobbits, Dwarrow and Elves to the mountain. "You're too early!" he called as he ran across the bridge from Lake Town to shore.

"We're a week late, you mean," came from a solid looking Dwarf at the front of the caravan. 

"It's Durin's Day!" cried Bard as he slid to a stop. "If the Company cannot kill Smaug within the mountain, he will fly tonight! Aye, and try to take Lake Town down to the water in revenge for their attempt!"

Many of the Dwarrow behind the one Bard was talking to made rude noises, and a few rude gestures as they continued to work on recreating the East/West road. The Dwarf in front of Bard laughed. "The old wyrm dies tonight, and we will sing of Kili Dragonsbane! Do not fear, Man of Lake Town. My Gloin and the others will see the deed done! If it truly bothers you, I will ask Tharkun to hide us this night. Surely a wizard is good for something besides lighting the way along the dark road through Mirkwood! I am Slyvi, and I am leader of the first caravan. We were delayed in Mirkwood, along the Old Forest Road, and so the second caravan has attached itself to our rear."

Bard bowed. "I am Bard, the Bowman. Can the wizard hide over four thousand people? If he can, please have him do so. Lake Town has been emptied, and I am all that remains here, the last guard against the beast."

"Over ten thousand," Sylvi corrected. "And I'm certain that he can, but he won't need to." She paused as Dwarrow slid past them, heading for the lake shore and returning with stones for road building. "How far from here is it to Erebor?"

"A week's walk across the Desolation," Bard said. He was watching the Dwarrow stonemasons hard at work. Between their numbers and their skill the road was quickly taking shape, far quicker than he had imagined that it could do so. The caravan, or at least most of it, should be beyond Lake Town by the time the sun set. "Set no fires tonight. Keep silent if you can. That is all that I can advise you. All of Esgaroth hides from the dragon tonight."

"Then I leave you to your watch, and I pray that it will be a boring one!" Sylvi proclaimed. "Ha! I must go, the road is ready and I must follow!" With that she turned and marched back to where the wagons were just coming visible.

Bard sighed, and turned back to return to his tower watch. There was nothing more that he could do for them. Their safety rested on young Kili now. He prayed to Eru that the Dwarf would succeed. He wanted to face Smaug even less now.

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Twelve Dwarrow, one Dwarrowdam, and a single Hobbit stood at the top of the hidden stair, watching as a thrush beat a snail out of it's shell, revealing the place of the keyhole to the only entrance to Erebor that could be accessed from the outside. Bilbo watched as Thorin pulled the key out from beneath his tunic, and the thong it hung on over his head as the clouds parted and the moonlight showing on the stone wall allowed the keyhole to emerge from the stone. Beside him Balin took a deep, shaky breath and Bilbo patted him on the arm. 

Thorin placed the key in the keyhole and turned it. The door, good honest Dwarven craft, opened easily with a single touch. He turned to the others. "I hope that you are all ready to run," he said with a quirk to his lips. "We have a dragon to taunt."

A few of the Dwarrow grinned, a few took deep breaths to steady their nerves, and Bilbo took the first steps into the mountain. He would go first, plying Smaug with sweet words while the others got into position. Knowing to give the Dwarrow a few minutes he made certain to stop at the end of the hall so that they could process the fact that they once more stood inside Erebor.

One by one the elder of the Ereborian Dwarrow touched the walls, and no few held back tears at the song of the mountain welcoming them back home. Bilbo smiled as a rather snuffly Dwalin turned to look at him. "Well, I'd best be going. I'll hold him off as long as I can, but the rest of you had better hurry into your places," he said, ignoring the wet eyes. With that, he turned and walked down to the treasury.

This time he didn't bother to sneak, or to be so foolish as to knock as he had before. Instead he simply walked down until he stood at the top of the staircase leading down into the treasury. Just as before, the treasure spread out before him, filling the great treasure room in waves of gold like an underground sea. Bilbo shook his head. No matter that it was an amazing sight to behold, all he could think about was that it was such a terrible mess. He remembered the trouble he had last time, walking over all that gold and treasure simply because it was so disorganized. Not one thing was properly put away. It was all strewn about on the floor in great piles and small hills.

Mind, that was what would make it easier to cleanse, as the salt water they were planning on flooding the room with would have a chance to soak down to the floor and from there into small channels that Balin had explained ran through every room in the mountain. It seemed that because the city was quite literally carved out of the mountain itself, the walls were prone to condensation and the Dwarrow were well versed in dealing with it. It would take time for the waters to drain from the treasury, but drain it would.

'Best get on with it,' Bilbo thought. 'Now as I recall, he was somewhere....over....there.' He headed out onto the sea of gold, more watching his footing than trying to be silent as he had before. He also went slower, to give the others more time to get into place. 

When Bilbo finally reached the place that he thought he remembered Smaug being buried, he took a deep breath and began moving gold. It turned out that his memory was off by a bit, but with as slippery as the gold was all piled up in the giant mess, that did not matter. Smaug's head was partially uncovered fairly quickly. 

As soon as Bilbo saw Smaug's eye, he ducked behind one of the great pillars. He was not overly fond of what had to happen next, but it was something that had to be done. Besides, he'd given his word to both the Green Lady and his Dwarrow. Smaug lay silent for a long few minutes, and Bilbo was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to lob a gold goblet at the dragon's nose to wake him up. 

Fortunately just as Bilbo was reaching for something to throw, Smaug raised his head sniffing, gold coins falling away and slithering down the hills of treasure. "Well thief," Smaug said. "I smell you. I hear your breath. I feel your air." Bilbo sort of wondered at the fact that Smaug was saying the exact same thing that he had last time when he'd been invisible instead of just hiding behind a pillar, but he supposed that it wasn't that far off. Smaug couldn't see him and that was the point at the moment. "Where are you?" Smaug demanded.

For all that the gold was not the most stable of surfaces to walk on, no creature that walked Middle Earth was as stealthy as a Hobbit. Bilbo slipped around the pillar with hardly a sound, staying just out of Smaug's sight. Smaug's great head swung around, sniffing and searching as Bilbo stayed just out of sight, keeping the pillar between him and the dragon.

It might have gone on that way for quite a while if not for a chance slide of gold. Cursing to himself, Bilbo ran to his next hiding spot, with Smaug actually swimming through the gold to try and catch him. "Come now, don't be shy, Step Into The Light," Smaug demanded.

"Just remember, Bilbo," he said to himself. "He's a SMALL dragon. Otherwise he wouldn't fit in here."

"SMALL! YOU CALL ME SMALL!!!" Smaug roared. "YOU DARE!"

"WELL, SO THE TALES SAY!" Bilbo called out. "I'M NOT SO SURE I BELIEVE THEM THOUGH, HAVING GAZED UPON YOUR MAGNIFICENCE, OH GREAT SMAUG!" Bilbo hit himself in the head. What was he doing? He was SUPPOSED to make him mad! "ON THE OTHER HAND, YOU CERTAINLY AREN'T AS BIG AS ANCALAGON, ARE YOU?" Ancalagon, the father of the dragons was supposed to have been the size of the mountain itself. There was no way he would have fit inside the treasury and Smaug very well knew it.

"THERE YOU ARE, THIEF IN THE SHADOWS!" Smaug said, finally spotting him. 

"OH, I DID NOT COME TO STEAL FROM YOU, SMAUG. I JUST CAME TO SEE IF YOU WERE AS TINY AS THEY SAID YOU ARE," Bilbo said, grabbing on to his courage. 

"TINY!" Smaug raged. He moved across the gold so that Bilbo could see all of him. Bilbo was glad enough, for he knew that he would need some distance in order to run away, leading the dragon out of the treasury. "LET THOSE DWARVES YOU CAME WITH COME AND SEE MY MIGHT!"

"AH, DWARVES?" Bilbo asked innocently. Of course the dratted thing would get the word wrong.

"I KNOW THE SMELL AND TASTE OF DWARVES. NO ONE BETTER. DID YOU THINK I DID NOT KNOW THIS DAY WOULD COME?" Bilbo spotted the Arkenstone and grabbed it up as it flew past as Smaug thrashed around in his rage. "THAT A PACK OF DWARVES WOULD COME CRAWLING BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN." 

One of the pillars was pushed over like a large tree, and Bilbo fled out of the way of the resulting cascade, running for the entrance to the treasury. Now was the time to let the others help lead Smaug to Kili. "THE KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN IS DEAD. I TOOK HIS THRONE. I ATE HIS PEOPLE, LIKE A WOLF AMONG SHEEP. I KILL WHERE I WISH, WHEN I WISH. MY ARMOR IS IRON." Smaug glided down the hill, hovering just over the gold as Bilbo ran ahead of him. "NO BLADE CAN PIERCE ME! MY TEETH ARE SWORDS. MY CLAWS ARE SPEARS. MY WINGS ARE A HURRICANE!"

"I'VE SEEN A HURRICANE," Bilbo threw over his shoulder. "I DON'T THINK THAT YOU QUITE QUALIFY!" And with that, he ran out of the treasury, Smaug roaring in anger behind him.

Thorin was standing at the stairs as Bilbo charged up them. "You're alive!" he gasped, his one fear breaking out of him as his One came running up the stairs.

"Not for much longer if we don't move!" Bilbo said, and charged on by. 

Just then Nori, Dori, Balin, Ori and Dwalin came to posture at the top of the stairs, just in time for Smaug to see them. "YOU WILL BURN!" Smaug cried. His breast began to glow and he let loose a burst of flame, burning around him indiscriminately. The Dwarrow ducked and ran, knowing that he would give chase.

Just as before, Thorin was the last one out of the treasury, his coat and hair on fire. He quickly shed the coat and Bilbo beat out his hair even as they continued to run, the other Dwarrow following. "FLEE, FLEE!" cried Smaug, continuing to chase. "THERE IS NO WHERE FOR YOU TO HIDE!"

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"HEY!" "OVER HERE!" "BEHIND YOU, PINT SIZE!" came from yet another corridor. Bombur, Bofur, and Gloin were calling, then they turned and ran, leading Smaug in yet another direction. Bofur and Gloin were almost left behind as Bombur hurried ahead to the next turn. "Dratted little brothers," Bofur grumbled, twisting and falling into a slide around the corner. He bruised his hip and almost broke his ankle, but he couldn't let that slow him down.

"Bifur's group has him," Bombur said as he helped Bofur up.

"Good, we need to get to the next turn," Gloin said and they hurried on their way, Bofur limping behind the other two.

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"SAKHGIRABI KANA ZAZN TADA YAZARNU DARAH SEREJA GAIRU!" Bifur yelled, along with a rude gesture at Smaug. While he doubted that Smaug knew Khuzul, his tone should get the insult across. Smaug responded with a loud noise that held no intelligent words, but carried his rage and frustration well. The gout of fire was just a punctuation on his ire.

"Well, we've got him, now what?" Dwalin asked. Bifur gestured to a turn and they hung a right, but Dwalin's hand and arm was scorched as he grabbed the corner for stability. "Mahal's beard!" he cursed but continued on, patting the flames out. The vambrace, knuckle duster, and sleeves that he was wearing on that arm were worthless now. They had saved his arm and hand from the worst of the burns, but dragonfire scarred. These would not heal as forge burns would. These would be forever slick and red. A small price for his home.

"HEY! HATCHLING! CAN'T CATCH US!" Dwalin and Bifur paused to catch their breath as Oin and Fili came charging through from the other direction.

"We can't keep this up for long," Dwalin muttered. Bifur nodded, but waved at him to go off to join his next group. They couldn't rest for long if they wanted this to work. This continued for some time, one group trading off with another and more than one Dwarrow changing groups at a whim crying out insults and leading the dragon in one direction after another, and Smaug letting loose with flames hot enough to turn the very stone under their feet red.

Finally they charged into the Hall of Kings from several different directions and ducking into alcolves around the statues. Kili lay in wait at the top of the final statue in the hall. "He's coming!" warned Bilbo, climbing up the scaffolding to where Kili perched. 

Thorin was there, waiting in front of Kili, hiding his sister-son from Smaug's sight. "You have grown slow and fat in your dotage, slug!" he cried, knowing that Smaug would not be able to hold his temper at the, hopefully final, insult.

Smaug roared in rage, and went up on his hind legs to let loose a great blast of fire at the statue. The fire never left his maw. Kili shot the moment Smaug reared up, the arrow gifted to him by Mahal piercing the spot left vulnerable by Lord Girion all those years before. Smaug choked, and Kili shot another arrow, sending it to land right next to the first. Smaug stumbled, and Kili's third arrow went into Smaug's right eye as the dragon began to fall to the floor. Smaug was dead before he hit the ground.

There was silence.


	32. Chapter 32

The Dwarrow came out of their hiding spots, Thorin, Bilbo and Kili coming down from the statue, and gathered in front of Smaug's corpse. Bifur poked it with his boar spear, and Fili looked to pull out Kili's arrows, but they were no longer there. He shrugged. "He's dead, alright!" Fili said cheerfully. "I can't find your arrows, Kili. I guess Mahal retrieved them now that they've been used." 

Thorin clapped Kili's shoulder and gave him a headbutt as the Company cheered around them. "Alright!" Thorin called. "We're not done yet! Bifur, Bofur! Take half of the Company and get started on your engine. Bombur, you're with me. The rest of you, Balin will take you to the palace kitchens. There should be enough salt there." He turned and with Bombur following, he headed to the gates. 

At the gates, Thorin went to the guardhouse, finding what he was looking for there, along with bodies. Bombur looked up at Thorin, and Thorin placed his hand on Bombur's shoulder. "We will give them to the stone as soon as we can," he promised. "For now, take this," and he handed Bombur one of the great horns that sat near the door. Dwarrow made larger horns than the great horns, but they were made of metal. The one that Thorin gave Bombur was made from the horn of one of the wild cattle that roamed the plains south of the Sea of Rhun. It wrapped around Bombur completely and the open end sat over his shoulder facing forward while the mouthpiece was in easy reach of Bombur's face.

Bombur followed Thorin onto the battlements, and Thorin directed him to stand over the gates. "Now," he said. "Let the world know that Smaug lies dead at our feet!"

Bombur grinned and let out the blasts that signaled victory. Thorin glanced over the large Dwarf, but he could see no injuries. He wasn't that surprised. Bombur was the swiftest of the Company. If any had come away unscathed, it would be him and Kili. The others though, he had to check and make certain that Oin had enough supplies to treat the burns. He wasn't foolish enough to think that they had all gotten away without harm. He grimaced and felt his own hair, the braids in front were fine but the back was crackling and flaking away and there was a small burn at the back of his neck. It was a small price to pay for Smaug's death, he told himself. Hair grew again, even if he had to cut it short, after all his braids hadn't been touched. Other wounds would not be so easily fixed.

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While the Dwarrow hurried to get on with their tasks, Bilbo went back to the secret door. He'd left his pack in the corridor, along with the box Mahal had given him. He needed that box now. Fortunately the box was right where he'd left it, and with the Dwarrow busy with flooding the treasury, none of them even thought to question him. Which was just as well. Their tasks were vital in allowing the mountain to be opened again, but so was this.

Bilbo fell to his knees, the box in his hand. He set it carefully down on the stone floor in front of him, and removed the Arkenstone from his pocket. "Right," he muttered to himself. He did not want to open that box. "Just get it over with, Baggins." He took a deep breath, and in one motion - opened the box, shoved the Arkenstone in and slammed it shut. 

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Thorin found himself drafted as a healer's apprentice when he and Bombur joined the group working on the engine. He carried Oin's pack of medicines as the healer checked each of the Company. Dwalin's right arm was covered in burns, from shoulder to knuckle. His layers and armor had saved him from the worst that could have happened, but the burns were still painful. 

"We've both seen worse," Dwalin snapped, as Oin covered the burns. "I'll still be able to fight."

Thorin clapped him on the unburned shoulder. "I know old friend, but rest that arm as much as you can. Let Oin's potions and balms do their work. There is plenty of work for Grasper to do when the Orcs get here. I would have you have as much use of that arm as possible." Dwalin grunted but let Oin do his work. He held his axe Keeper in his left hand. He hated being laid up. 

Bofur was sitting on a stool that someone had found, as he and Bifur worked on their engine. It would divert water into the treasury and mix in the salt that the others were bringing. He had twisted his ankle and had lost parts of his coat, but according to Bofur the worst of his injuries was the loss of his beloved hat. Personally, Thorin thought that the hat should have met it's end long before now, but kept his silence on the matter. Oin was able to do something with metal pieces, padding, and leather that he'd found down in the closest infirmary to make it so that Bofur could walk somewhat easily. 

Balin brought in the rest of the Company, all carrying barrels of salt. Thorin made certain that Oin knew to check them as well. Save for Kili, every Dwarrow had lost at least part of their clothing to Smaug's fire. Melted boot soles were the most common damage done to clothing, but as Thorin had feared, only Bombur and Kili had escaped unharmed. Gloin had lost a lock of hair and part of an eyebrow, as well as having most of the ear on that side of his head burned off. Gloin made jokes about matching his brother now as Oin coated what remained of his ear with something he'd pulled out of his kit. 

Bifur, Oin and Balin had each lost part of their beards, and for a brief moment Thorin was grateful that he'd kept his shorn short in remembrance, before mentally kicking himself. Thorin knew perfectly well that none of them would suffer any loss of honor over their newly shortened beards, but he shouldn't acknowledge that it had happened either. He should ignore it unless one of them brought it up, and only then should he say anything. Thorin paused a moment to think. No - he really should honor their sacrifice in some way. A new bead perhaps? One just for them? To have dragonfire come so close to their faces, for them to lose parts of their beards in taking back the mountain, they deserved no less. He'd have to come up with a design and forge them himself.

Fili and the Ri's were also injured. They had burns over hands, legs and in Nori's case a bad burn to his back. Thorin had to wonder if they had all been injured before and he simply hadn't noticed in his madness, or if they had been injured as a result of everything going so well this time around. They'd had so few injuries in spite of all of the dangers they'd faced. To see his Company now, he wondered how he could have even thought that sending any of them into battle was a good idea. They should all be in Oin's new infirmary, and prevented from fighting as much as physically possible, at least those who had bad burns.

"That's all of them," Oin said, stretching after finishing with Fili.

"What about Bilbo?" Thorin asked. He hadn't seen his One with the others, but surely he had been with Balin's group. He was probably still in the kitchens making a meal for them all if he knew his Hobbit.

"Haven't see him," Oin admitted. Thorin quickly questioned the rest of the Company. No one had seen his Hobbit since Smaug's death had been confirmed. That had been hours ago. No one knew where he was now.

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Thranduil paused in petting his great elk. His army was camped just outside the Woodland. His hearing was sharp as befitted an Elf, but thanks to old wounds his was sharper than most. He turned his head. There it was again. A great horn, one of those used by the Dwarrow of Erebor. "Father?" Rivalion asked.

"Smaug is dead," Thranduil said simply. He returned to caring for his mount. So the dragon was dead. It seemed the Twice-Born had spoken truly. He would wait to see if the Dwarf would keep his word. In the meantime, he had his people to take care of.

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When the Dwarrow of the caravan heard the great horn sound, they let out a great cheer. Immediately they began celebrating, pulling everyone around them into the impromptu party. "LONG LIVE KILI DRAGONSBANE!!!" and similar cheers came from all around, and musical instruments came out to play. The fires which had been laid were now lit, and Hobbits began passing out ale and wine. It didn't take long for the dancing to begin.

"Finally," Rukuc said with a very satisfied air. "Now if we can get through the battle without too many people being idiots...." 

Holly smiled and pulled him into a dance. "The dragon is dead. Yes there is the battle to get through, but tonight is for celebrating, and you need to remember that!" The two of them danced by the leaders of the Big Folk, and Holly flashed them all a grin. "The dragon is dead, long live the king!" she called out to them.

Gandalf sighed, letting go of his magic with a chuckle at the young Hobbit's cheek. It was a hard thing, to hide so many from the sight of a dragon, and yet, sitting here with Galadriel and Elrond, surrounded by celebrating Dwarrow, Elves and Hobbits, he was sure it was worth the effort.

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The moment the horn rang out, Sigrid was on her feet and running for the door. Tauriel was right behind her, as were most of those who had taken shelter in the hall. Once outside, she scanned the horizon. No flames. She ran for the city walls and climbed up to the top ahead of a crowd. Still no flames. "They did it," she breathed. She turned to Tauriel. "THEY DID IT!" she cried. "SMAUG IS DEAD!!!!"

As the crowd began cheering and celebrating the death of the dragon, Tauriel turned to her. "Now we just have to see if our Dwarrow made it."

"They made it," Sigrid said firmly. She wouldn't accept anything less. 

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"Bilbo? Ghivashel?" Thorin hurried over to where Bilbo was laying flat on the stone floor. He'd checked the corridor near the hidden door in case Bilbo had gone back for their packs. With the injuries the Company had, he was deeply worried about Bilbo. 

"What? Oh, Thorin," Bilbo said muzzily. He struggled to sit up with Thorin's help. "Don't worry. It's done. I did it. Don't have to worry about it," Bilbo muttered, patting Thorin's arm. 

"Don't worry about what? What has happened? You weren't with the others," Thorin asked. He patted down Bilbo in search of an injury, or rather an additional injury. He could already see that there were burns on the bottoms of Bilbo's feet . 

Bilbo smiled, his head clearing more swiftly now. "I'm alright, Thorin. I just had to open the box."

"WHAT? WHY?" Thorin barked.

Bilbo shot him an unamused look. "To put the Arkenstone in it. I found it as Smaug was thrashing around. I had to make certain that it was put away before it got it's hooks into anyone," he pointed out. Thorin looked abashed at the very obvious answer. "Fortunately, that is the last time anyone will have to do that. Now all I have to do, is to put the whole thing where it belongs. That however, won't be for quite a while yet."

"Somehow I doubt that where it belongs is a simple walk down to the tombs," Thorin said grimly. "Will you tell me now, now that Smaug is dead and we have reclaimed the mountain? I know that we still have to get through the battle, but you have kept this secret for more than a year. I would share it with you, even if I can not take the journey with you."

"No you can't!" Bilbo snapped. "I know you, Thorin. You would do everything in your power to come with me, and you cannot! You are needed here. As for where I must go, the box must be thrown into Mount Doom, in Mordor, there to melt away both the box and the ring. The destruction of the ring will destroy Sauron, and the Arkenstone will return to Arda, there to wait until the end of the music, at Dagor Dagorath when even Hobbits will have to take up arms."

"MORDOR," Thorin breathed in horror and looked at the innocent looking box.

"Yes," Bilbo said flatly as he reached out and stuffed the box back into his pack. "I had hoped to go as soon as the battle was over, when Spring came again, but I've been told that I have to wait. The war that is to come, will come and I may not try to stop it from happening. My Frodo, my dear little lad went all the way with his friend Samwise. He didn't even have a box to protect him from the ring. He kept it on a chain around his neck. He bore the scars from that chain for all his days. It nearly destroyed him in the end," Bilbo wept. "He had to go to the Undying Lands with the last of the great Elves to heal from the hurts the ring gave his soul." He swiftly turned and poked Thorin in the chest. "I will not allow that to happen again! The Green Lady has promised me that this time I will be hale and hardy enough to take the journey, and take it I will!"

Thorin gathered Bilbo up into his arms. "Dwalin has already sworn to go with you. So has Lord Elrond," he reminded his Hobbit as he stood up. "We will find more to journey with you. You said that eight traveled with Frodo. I will make certain that you have your own Company when the time comes, but why may I not go with you? Fili will be ready to take the crown by then." He picked up Bilbo's pack and began to carry both back to the small hall where he and Balin had made tentative plans to make a camp. 

Bilbo shook his head. "You will be needed to lead our armies. Mordor will send its army against the free peoples here, and you will be needed to keep that army pinned against the mountain, lest they attack the Woodland and Lorien. Their armies will be needed in Gondor and perhaps Rohan. Fili is a good warrior, but he doesn't have your experience with war, nor does he have your reputation, and you'll need that reputation. People will follow you where they will not follow another. We've gotten rid of one army before it could be created, but Mordor will always breed more Orcs so that one could still happen. It would be better if we can send some of our warriors to help the other realms with Fili and Kili in charge of them, but we'll have to see about that later."

Thorin cursed, but Bilbo was right. To the world, Fili was but an untried lad. Even when he was in the fullness of his years, he would not have the reputation that Thorin would have just from leading the charge against Azog at Ananulbizar, not to mention leading at the battle of Five Armies. "If I may not go with you, you will let me chose my best to send with you," he demanded.

Bilbo nodded and slumped down into Thorin's arms. He would take what comfort he could right now. The ring had not been kind, even the small exposure he'd had this time. "Come, my Hobbit, let us find you a bed. Smaug is dead, the treasury is flooding, and when dawn breaks the gates will open. We will have much to do in the coming days."

Bilbo nodded, then frowned. "Did Oin see to your back? How about the others, did any of them come away with burns?" he fussed. 

"Most of us have at least a minor burn or two," Thorin admitted. "A few of the Company have more serious injuries, but we all live, Bilbo. Oin has treated everyone but you, and when he has seen to you, you will rest. We have a little time to do so now, so we must take advantage of it."

"You almost sound like a Hobbit there," Bilbo teased sleepily. 

"Don't worry, I am certain that will not last long," Thorin told him. He needed to get Bilbo to Oin. His One didn't even seem to realize he'd been hurt. That was not a good thing when it came to burns.

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Bard lifted his head. He could hear the horn clearly, sounding again and again. Smaug was dead. He slumped down in relief, before snatching up his lantern. If he hurried, he would be able to catch up with the caravan. He pulled his bow up onto his shoulder and made certain that his quiver was secure on his belt. 

He turned towards the stairs, only to find a flock of thrushes on the wall facing South. When they saw that they had Bard's attention, the small birds began chirping up a storm, hopping up and down and generally making quite a scene. "Eru's Grace!" Bard swore. "Half of you go to Erebor, find one of the Ravens and tell them what you've told me. Get them to tell King Thorin. Now that Smaug's dead, he's the flock leader there. The rest of you, head to Dale. Tell your tale to my daughter Sigrid. She'll get the Men into the mountain."

Bard ran for the staircase as the flock of thrushes broke up, half of them heading for the mountain, and half for Dale as he had told them. Sigrid had left her mare with him, both so that he had a way to travel swiftly and to show that she had confidence in the Dwarrow. She had been right. Smaug was dead, but the thrushes had warned him that the Orcs were early. They would be in Lake Town in four days. If he didn't hurry and warn them, the caravan would be caught out in the open.

They'd be slaughtered.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dain's battle boar - First, a boar is a male pig, and thus usually bigger than the females. Second, while most pigs are at best three feet tall at the shoulder, four to five feet is possible, just very rare. As these pigs are battle pigs, I believe that the Dwarrow have bred them for a bigger size, much like the Men do for horses, draft horses being twice to three times bigger than regular saddle breeds.
> 
> A/N2: I'm sorry about taking so long to post this chapter. In my defense, RL went to crap on an epic scale. Out of the blue my MIL got sick, and my DH, her son, was called up and told to get back home (halfway across the country) if he wanted to see her before she died. (No, not Covid, but still...) We made it, he did get to see her a few times as she hung in there a few days longer than they expected, but to say the least it was stressful on the entire family. I don't regret going out there, but I do regret that this story and my faithful readers had to take a back burner. I will try to get back on my something of a schedule as soon as possible.

Dain Ironfoot set out at the head of the largest army that the Iron Hills could produce. 2,653 Dwarrow and Dams, over 500 battle pigs and the same number of battle rams, and nearly 800 wagons, (containing the various war machines that Dain's warrior-engineers had come up with), fell in behind him. "TO EREBOR! FOR THE KING AND TO PUT THOSE RUDDY ORCS IN THEIR PLACE!" he called out as he began the march, riding his five foot tall battle boar.

He was answered with a call of 'DU BEKAR!" and the army began singing a Dwarrow marching song. Dain was pleased with how eager his people were to take the fight to the Orcs. His only worry was that Thorin had died in confronting the dragon. He hadn't seen young Fili or even Kili in decades, in fact they were still toddling around after their Amad the last time he'd been to Thorin's Halls. He knew that they were now of age, but what little he knew of them did not inspire any confidence of either one of them taking the throne if they had to. Worst of all would be if all three of them had perished in the deed, and he had to take the throne himself. 

Becoming the King under the Mountain, King and Clan leader of Durin's Folk and line was the very last thing that Dain wanted, either for himself or his son. The Iron Hills had little in the way of gold or silver, but they had large deposits of marble, zinc, copper, cobalt, and of course iron. These were more than enough to provide a good living for his people, if not the legendary wealth of Erebor. Such wealth brought troubles that Dain did not want to deal with - such as dragons and people who might as well have been dragons. He had enough troubles with his own council of self important idiots. He didn't need more.

As it was, after him and his son the line of Durin ran through most of the Company that Thorin had told him he was taking with him. That was why he'd insisted that his son, Thorin - called Stonehelm - stay behind to lead the Iron Hills in his absence. With two armies of Orcs trying to attack the mountain, not to mention the attempt to kill Smaug, it was very possible that the entire line of Durin could be wiped out save for little Gimli, (who was too young to fight if he had anything to say about it, never mind that Gimli was older than he was at Azanulbizar), if he let young Thorin fight in the battle. 

Dain couldn't let that happen. Azanulbizar was never far from his thoughts at times like these, and he would not do to Gimli and young Thorin what had been done to him. If their fathers and cousins and whatnot died, they would do so far away from the boys. The boys would not have to watch as their loved ones died, nor would they have to deal with the resulting chores that came after a battle like that - burning the bodies both Dwarrow and that of the Orcs. Well, with Erebor reclaimed the Dwarrow dead could be returned to the stone as was proper, but still cleaning up after a battle as big as this one was promising to be was nasty business. It was best for the boys to be far out of it.

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Sigrid couldn't leave the wall. She knew that she should be getting some sleep before Erebor's gates opened at daybreak, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to rest until she saw Fili again. Thus she saw the flight of thrushes headed straight for Dale, and a second one headed for Ravenhill. It didn't take long for the thrushes to find her. When she'd heard their tale she cursed and ran back down the wall to Dale's livery. There were several Elves there, tending to the horses and other animals that had gone to Dale. 

"Oston!" she called as she entered the stable. The Elf that she called for came hurrying over from where he had been tending his horse. He and a handful of Elves had not joined in the celebrations, mostly due to their temperament rather than any lack of joy at Smaug's death. Sigrid knew from Tauriel that these Elves tended to be extremely uncomfortable in crowds, but Oston was well known for his abilities as a courier. "I need you to ride as fast as you can for the forest village where the rest of Lake Town's people are. They need to come to the mountain by the swiftest paths. The Orcs have been sighted. They are to leave everything behind and move as swiftly as possible. Make certain that no one is left behind. I would rather we survived on short rations all Winter than to lose a single person to the Orcs."

"I understand and agree, Lady Sigrid. It shall be as you say," Oston said with a short bow. He immediately went and began to ready his horse, speaking to him in Sindarin and putting his saddle on. Sigrid helped get the other horses ready, as did the other Elves who were still in the stable. It didn't take long before Oston and the horses had all left Dale.

"How soon before the Orcs get to the forest village, My Lady?" an elleth named Toliel asked.

"Five days," Sigrid sighed. "Oston will get there in two days or less switching between horses, but if Lake Town's adults carry the children and do not stop as they march, they will get here three to four days after that."

"Four days, without stopping?" the Elves looked at her in shock.

Sigrid smiled. "We Men are second only to Dwarrow in endurance," she explained. "They might even make it sooner than that. Master Baggins told me a tale where a Man, a Dwarrow and an Elf ran across Rohan in three days. This march isn't nearly that far and they will not have to run, although they will not be able to stop if they want to stay ahead of the Orcs. They'll be exhausted when they get here, but they'll have time to recover. The Orcs won't get here for another eleven days unless they're being pushed - which to be honest they won't be. None of those in charge of their armies know that we know they are coming. They're expecting an undefended little town on the lake, and no one but a small group of Dwarrow at the mountain. In addition, if any of your people who are in the village with mine have heard the horn, they might be getting ready to leave already. So, four to six days and everyone from the village should be here. We'll move into the mountain at daybreak and do what we can to get ready for those coming."

The Elves nodded, although they still looked shock at her figures. Sigrid mentally shrugged. Those sorts of marches were rare, it was true but they were possible, although everyone who marched would need time to rest and recover afterwards. No one would be running if they had any sense, and there would be a full moon or a nearly full moon the entire time. She also knew very well that Lunt, the old training master - the one who had refused to serve under the former Master of Lake Town - was in charge of those in the forest village, and he had done one of these kinds of marches before. He would be able to get everyone to the mountain before the Orcs. She just had to be ready with pallets and lots of warm food for those what had marched.

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Bard rode for hours along the new road. It wasn't hard to spot the caravan. They'd built up bonfires and there was music ringing out that carried over the water. He didn't blame them for celebrating. If it wasn't for the Orcs coming, he'd have been celebrating too. He'd even had a small jug of wine to toast young Kili that he'd stashed one of Dale's houses for later. He'd been hopeful and Kili had done it. Smaug was dead, but no one had thought that the Orcs would be early.

Bard rode up to the caravan and searched for those in charge. It wasn't hard to see just where they were. The trouble was figuring out the who. The large caravan was set up in large circles made from the wagons, each circle spaced alongside the road. Inside the circles were the herds that those traveling to Erebor had brought. They were probably smaller than what they'd started out with, Bard figured. At least some of those animals had to have been butchered on the road to feed so many people.

Outside each circle and generally on the other side of the road was a bonfire, and around those bonfires the people of the caravan were celebrating Smaug's death. There were quite a few people going from one fire to the next, but there were Elves with circlets on their heads sitting at the fire closest to Erebor along with what looked like a Man and several Hobbits and Dwarrow. With any luck, those were the ones Bard needed to talk to. Few people turned to watch him as he rode, but there were two Elves who immediately took Sigrid's mare from him as he pulled up to the fire.

Bard jumped down, nodded a thanks to the Elves and hurried over to where the group he had noted before were sitting. "Congratulations Bard! The dragon is slain and you didn't have to do it!" laughed Sylvi, the Dwarrow he had seen and talked to before.

Bard remembered that he was the caravan master. "I am grateful as well, Master Sylvi, but I have bad news." 

"The Orcs are early," a tall Elven woman said, her eyes gazing off into the distance. "Azog's anger overflows."

"Yes, my lady," Bard said. He had no idea what she meant by Azog, but that was neither here nor there. The Orcs were early, that was all that mattered. "They're four days behind us. I've sent word to Dale and to Erebor." The Elven woman was beautiful beyond anything Bard had ever seen before, but it only made him miss his Mari all the more. If only she could see him now, talking with high Elves and getting ready for battle. She'd be laughing her head off. She'd always told him that if it came to battle, he'd be the one staying home and tending the children. He honestly wished that she was here to do so. She'd be so proud of Sigrid.

"Please, join us. I am Elrond, this is the Lady Galadriel, and the Wizard Gandalf. You already know Caravan Master Sylvi and beside him is Priestess Honeysuckle of the Hobbits," the tall, dark Elf said, making introductions around the small group.

"I'm pleased to meet you all," Bard said, not wanting to be impolite to those who have come to help his people. "Can we get the caravan to Erebor before they reach us?" he asked, accepting a plate of bread and roasted meat from a Hobbit lad, along with a mug of ale. 

"Orc armies tend to travel at the same pace as oxen, slower than a Man or Elf, but implacable once begun on their journey," Elrond said. "We're well ahead of them, provided that we lose no time building the road." He turned to Galadriel. "Can you get the message to Thranduil, my lady?" he asked.

Galadriel nodded. "Provided that he marches, he should be able to get there in time," she said.

"He marches," Bard told them. "His former Captain of the Guard, the Lady Tauriel, is Twice-Born as is my daughter, Sigrid. They warned us both, and the Elvenking has been preparing his army for some time now."

"Ah, did young Kili find his suit welcome then?" Elrond asked, a smile breaking out on his face.

"They married as soon as Kili came to the Woodland," Bard said, with a wry grimace. He was happy for Tauriel, he really was, but there was still a part of him that was not happy that Sigrid had married Fili so quickly. He understood the reasons, but he would have liked to have known the Dwarf for longer. It was all these damned Orcs fault.

"And Prince Fili? Did he find his One as well?" Sylvi asked, with all of the interest of an irreverent matchmaker.

"Yes, he and Sigrid married as soon as he got to Lake Town," Bard said sourly.

"YES!" Sylvi cried. "Now all that's needed is to find that Elf prince my Gimli is supposed to be Ones with, and the next generation of the line will be secured."

"AMAD!" groaned a young Dwarf lad, as he came up to the group. "Leave off! I'll meet him soon enough. He's got to be with that army that the Elvenking is bringing, after all."

"You're right, my little gem," Sylvi said, ignoring Gimli's continued complaints. "The sooner we get to Erebor the better."

"I can direct your road workers to the best path up to Dale and the mountain. I've been traveling it for months now," Bard offered.

"We'll gladly take your assistance in the matter," Sylvi said. "For now though, Smaug is dead! Long live Kili Dragonsbane!"

"To the death of the dragon!" Bard chimed in, finally relaxing. The dragon was dead, the caravan should be able to get to Erebor ahead of the Orcs, and his children would be inside the mountain come morning. There was still work to do, but Master Sylvi was right, tonight was a night to celebrate. There was plenty of work for tomorrow.

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Thranduil stopped speaking to his sons, and set down his goblet of wine. "The Orcs are early," he declared. If there was one thing that Galadriel was good for, it was long distance communication. He both welcomed her mind touch, for it brought him images that his eyes could no longer see, and disdained it, for he knew that she would not use that power to help his people. She preserved her lands and left his to rot. "They are four days from the town of Men. Elrond and Galadriel will arrive in Erebor in six days."

"We will get to the mountain first," Calithildir said, quickly calculating how quickly they could move and how quickly the Orcs were likely to. "If we hurry, we'll get there in five days, plenty of time to hold a war council." 

Thranduil nodded. "Get some rest. We leave at first light." He did not notice how the rest of his sons glanced at Rivalion. The healer nodded, indicating that such a thing would not harm their father.

Calithildir, Legolas, and Lameanor all filed out of their father's tent, Calithildir passing on the order to the rest of the camp through the guards standing watch. The three of them waited for Rivalion just out of earshot of the tent. They had no wish to have their father think that they thought him an invalid king, even if he was.

It did not take long for Rivalion to catch up with them. "He'll be fine. The march will be hard on him, but he'll have time to rest before the battle. I'm more worried about how he's going to react to the other leaders," he said quietly. He wasn't trying to hide Thranduil's illness. Everyone knew about both the loss of sight and the rages that he was now prone to thanks to the injuries he had endured when he had taken a blast of dragonfire to the face. 

Legolas shook his head. "He still refuses to sail. As long as he thinks that our people need him, you'll have to physically drag him to get him on a ship." Everyone also knew of his refusal to take the Straight Road, in spite of the fact that his lady wife had taken that road many years ago. They honored him for his many sacrifices. "We can't let him fight. This isn't a skirmish against spiders or the like. It's going to be a war battle."

"He's our king," Calithildir reminded them.

"He's our father first," Lamaenor pointed out. "And going into battle is just going to get him killed. He's blind! No matter how good he is with a sword, he can't see! Do you want to face Mother and tell her we just let him go?"

"If any of us say anything about that, it will just send him into one of his rages," Rivalion pointed out. "He won't back down, not while he thinks our people need him."

The four of them stood there frustrated, until Legolas began to smile a rather wicked smile. "You know, I still haven't told him about Gimli," he pointed out. The grin spread from Elf to Elf. It looked like they would not have to try and force their father from the field of battle - not when Thranduil's most likely reaction would do that for them.

Calithildir nodded. "Do it. When we get to Erebor, you can introduce the lad to Father. Just make certain that your Gimli knows WHY we're doing things this way." Legolas nodded.

"I will have his medicines ready," Rivalion promised. One way or another, they would make certain that Thranduil survived long enough to sail. After all, they'd promised their mother that they would.


	34. Chapter 34

October 2

Thorin spent a very sleepless night. Once Oin had looked at Bilbo's feet, and pronounced the Hobbit to have the toughest soles he'd ever seen on anyone's feet because the burns were much milder than they looked, Thorin had put his One to bed near where those Dwarrow who were taking a sleeping shift or were injured were bedded down. Bilbo would need his sleep in order to help Balin organize things in the morning. He'd also managed to get Bilbo to tell him just why Oin's proclamation had the Hobbit blushing so hard. Apparently tough soles and fine foot fur was to Hobbits what a long beard with fine braids were to Dwarrow. 

Bilbo had explained that he hadn't been so well complemented since he was much younger and Hobbit lasses were trying to get him to invite them to dance. While the complements had been nice, the entire mess of being scrutinized as a potential match had been a horror for him as a few Hobbit lasses he'd known, (cough, Lobeila, cough), had only wanted his station and wealth. It had made him a bit paranoid about the whole thing as he could never be truly certain that the lass in question wanted him for himself. Thorin could only be grateful for that even as he sympathized. No few 'Dams had been interested in his crown, in spite of the fact that the crown had little luxury to go with it. As it was he'd been able to put them off by telling anyone who asked that he was waiting for his One.

Thorin really would have hated having to fight some dainty Hobbit lass for his One, so he was glad that Bilbo had put the lasses off as well. He'd have felt like the worst bully in existence because he was so much taller and stronger than a Hobbit lass, but he wouldn't have been able to not fight for Bilbo either. He simply thanked the Valar for missing that potential disaster.

After settling Bilbo in, Thorin had checked on the rest of the Company. Balin and Kili, he was informed had gone down to the tombs, to see how many tombs had been prepared in the days before Smaug's first attack that had not been used. Few if any of those who had died that day, (that is those who had left remains as the Company was well aware that Smaug had eaten quite a few of their kin), would still be able to be identified, but that did not mean that they would not be honored as Smaug's victims. Any body found within the mountain would be returned to the stone, and that meant that there was a lot of work to be done in preparation for that. Of course what no one wanted to say, or to think on, was that with the battle that was coming there would be a great need for tombs for fallen warriors. It was good for Kili to go with Balin to get started on that.

Fili was with Bofur, watching over the engine while Bifur got some sleep. The old warrior was passed out on his cloak, his head on his pack, next to the wall not far from where his cousin and Fili were working. Fili was carefully pouring in a thin stream of salt into the engine, with Bofur looking on to make certain that nothing jammed. Someone would have to stand watch while someone poured salt until the entire treasury was flooded with salt water. They would each take the chore in shifts, although Bofur and Bifur would be the ones to ensure that nothing went wrong with their engine. It would take hours to flood the treasury, but it should be done by morning, in plenty of time for the treasure to be under water by the time the Men entered the mountain.

Dwalin, Gloin, Oin and Nori were passed out near where Thorin had bedded Bilbo down, and Dori and Ori were watching over them. Ori was working on a scroll, and Dori was setting up their packs into something of an organized camp while fussing over Nori even if the Dwarrow was out cold from Oin's potions. There would be rooms and beds for them soon enough, at least they had a good sized fireplace in this chamber. A simple camp was fine for now, although Thorin was certain that Dori and Bilbo would say otherwise. Thorin wasn't brave enough to interfere with Dori's fussing, either about the conditions or about Nori. One did not cross a Dam without expecting to pay for it, and that was without Dori's strength to consider. 

Bombur had gone to the palace kitchens to begin sorting things out there, as it would probably take a great deal of work to get the kitchens ready to be able to prepare food and it would be needed first thing in the morning. Thorin had every intention of installing the talented Dwarf there as Master Chef once the palace and kingdom was functional again. Dis would kill him on the spot and take over as Queen if he were ever foolish enough to deny her Bomber's cooking on a regular basis. She'd only allowed him to take Bombur in the first place because the quest had been so important and Bombur and his family had agreed that he should go. Fili and Kili would probably help her, knowing those two.

Thorin worked with Bombur in making certain that all of the chimneys for both the stoves and fireplaces were in working order so that the kitchen could be put to work as soon as possible. He wasn't a Stone Talker, but his stone sense was very strong, which made checking the chimneys fairly easy as the chimneys did not have far to travel to vent outside the mountain. Thorin found that all but two of the chimneys were free of blockages. He told Bombur not to use those fireplaces, (mostly used for roasting entire cattle or pigs), until they could be repaired, or at least have the blockages removed. He wasn't certain, but he thought that the blockages were from a rock fall on the outside of the mountain. He'd have to send some Dwarrow to make certain. It wouldn't do for their only kitchen to suddenly be filled with smoke in the depths of Winter if the rock slide were to suddenly shift.

From there Thorin retrieved Ori and had him take notes as he moved through the areas of the mountain close to the main gates. There were soldier's barracks one level up from the gates themselves, one to each side of the gates. These Thorin had Ori mark down as suitable to house their soon to be Elvish guests. There were entrances to the battlements directly from the barracks - originally intended so that the soldiers could get to their posts quickly in times of emergency. It would be easier on the Elves if they could easily see the sky. Plus soldiers wouldn't be put out on bedding down on the floor if necessary. Their nobles, well, if he had to bed down on a bedroll and bare rock floor, then they could do so as well.

The Hall of Kings was regrettably occupied by Smaug's corpse, so that was out as a place to put the Men. It took Thorin and Ori several tries to find a good sized hall suitable for them. Fortunately they found one with rooms off of it. It had been a Clothier's Guild Hall once upon a time. The rooms were meant to be used to meet with clients, so they had relieving rooms and good fireplaces in each. They would be suitable for any who could not for whatever reason stay out in the main hall. Once they had thoroughly checked it over - finding nothing actually wrong outside of the debris that had been left behind by fleeing Dwarrow - Thorin went searching for another Guild Hall - one for the Healers. Unsurprisingly the closest Healer's Hall was located on the same level as, and close to, the main gates. That of course made sense, as wounded would be brought inside the mountain through those gates. There were also two auxiliary halls that Thorin had Ori mark down as to be prepared for the battle. Better numbers or not, there was bound to be a horrific amount of wounded to be tended to soon.

That only left finding a place to host the Hobbits and the coming Dwarrow. Naturally, Thorin wanted some place that was truly appropriate for his One's people, and preferred that those Dwarrow staying in the mountain would be close to them, both to watch over the Hobbits to keep them from getting lost, as well as to encourage ease in courting. After several moments of thought, Thorin motioned Ori to follow him once more. The young Dwarrow was holding up well, in spite of the fact that they'd both been on their feet for hours, and had been taunting a dragon before that. "One last place to check out before morning, Ori," he said. "I do believe that the Hobbits would like to stay near the mushroom farms. One of the furthest up the mountain is near the palace kitchens, so if we can find something near to that one, it would be best."

Ori pulled out a scroll and rolled it out onto a nearby surface. "Master Balin and some of the other Dwarrow who were old enough to remember Erebor before the dragon worked on making a map before we left, Your Majesty. As you can see from my corrections, not all of it is accurate, but there should be something over here," he pointed to a hall marked near the palace kitchens. Thorin thought it had been used for the kitchen workers, and there were markings for apartments in that area that might be used to house the Dwarrow. "Of course, the palace and such were much easier for them to remember, so there's a good chance that we'll find what we're looking for."

Thorin smiled tiredly. "Ori, to my Company I am Thorin, at least when I'm not on the throne. Have you been working on this all this time?"

Ori nodded. "Honestly I started working on it as soon as Oin said that Nori was going to be alright. I knew we'd need an accurate map as soon as possible, especially since most of those who remember the mountain were children when Smaug came."

"Good, turn this map over to Balin once we're done finding the Hobbits a place to live until their Rhodd Bythol is built. You'll need to get some sleep tonight as you'll be needed as a scribe come morning. I'll need to know who is where once people start coming into the mountain." Fortunately, the map was correct, and Thorin sent Ori off to bed. 

For Thorin the work was not yet done. The very first thing he had to do was lay the bodies of those who had died in the guard house to rest. That he did himself, with Kili and Balin's help. Normally a priest would be the one saying the rites over the dead, but Mahal had been a generous Father, and had made certain that any Dwarrow could properly lay their kin to rest. As King, Thorin felt that it was his responsibility to lay those that he could under the stone. 

After that, and Mahal was he glad to be finished with that sad duty, he and Balin searched out some of the old store rooms, looking for cleaning supplies, oil for the large lanterns that would be needed in the infirmaries, and coal for the great forges. With the forges more than a century cold, they had to be inspected for blockages before they could be restarted as well as making certain that there was enough fuel for them, but restarting them was one of the things that needed to be done before sunrise. 

Fortunately Dwarrow were well used to working on short sleep, and Gloin and Dwalin as well as Bofur were able to join him in the chamber where the Great Forges lay in the early hours of the morning. By the time they had finished with the inspections - mostly by using Bofur's gift of Stone Talking - and Gloin had the first two of the twelve forges going, it was time to open the gates. "Wake up everyone who's still asleep and get them down to the gates," he told Fili. They were honestly not at all a functional kingdom yet, but by Mahal, they would be there to greet their guests as Dwarrow should.

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"You are Gimli, are you not?" Galadriel asked, riding up to the lead wagon.

Gimli, who was walking alongside the lead oxen pair, looked up and took a classic double take. "A..A...Aye, Lady," he stammered. "Gimli, son of Gloin, at your service." He bowed, before checking the animals, and turning back to Galadriel. 

Galadriel smiled down at him. "I am Galadriel, and I understand from your Amad that your One is an Elven prince," she said leadingly.

"Yes, my lady," Gimli said. "He's one of King Thranduil's sons, is my understanding."

"Do you happen to know his name?" she asked. "You see, my lord and I have hosted one of Thranduil's sons for some time now, and I am wondering if it could possibly be him."

"Ah, no my lady," Gimli said, sorry to disappoint her. "My One is Legolas, his youngest, and I am told he has never left Mirkwood forest or his father's court. I have not met him yet, but Master Baggins is the one who informed my father. It was part of his vision from the Hobbit's Green Lady, and he did not wish for our family to be surprised by the discovery."

"Surprised indeed," Galadriel laughed. "Few can say that they walked in the steps of Narvi and Celebrimbor."

"The great smith?" Gimli asked, surprised.

"Yes, they built the Doors of Durin together, the West gate of Khazad-Dum. My lord and I were there when they unveiled the Doors. Alas, Narvi outlived Celebrimbor, something that none of us expected. Narvi was devastated as only a Dwarf who has lost their One can be, so I tell you now what few remember. They were One. I saw this, and still stand as witness to them. But while they lived - OH! the marvels that they created together! They were never happier than when they had a new project to work on."

Gimli shook his head. "It must have been hard to be the first," he said. "My cousin Kili, who is the one who slew the dragon, his One is also an Elf. We will have each other at least, to turn to when needs arise."

Galadriel smiled, charmed at Gimli's answer. "Honestly, it was a wonder they found each other at all, so focused on their work were they. I doubt that they even noticed that any took exception to their pairing."

Gimli nodded seriously. "They were true Masters. Such as they can find it difficult to remember to even feed themselves, so caught up in their Craft they can become. We Dwarrow are taught that if a true Master appears we are to ensure that they are taken care of when their Craft overwhelms their common sense."

"AH! Master Gimli, you have solved a small mystery for me! I had wondered why there was always a young Dwarrow at hand in their workshop. They always seemed to have the answers to questions I had, and I had seen them nudge food or drink into Narvi and Celebrimbor's hands. I had thought them to be apprentices, but Celebrimbor assured me once that he would never take one as it would be a disservice to the apprentice. He did not have any skill at teaching, he claimed," Galadriel said with a sparkling laugh. It was obvious from her words that Celebrimbor had been a friend to her.

"Aye, tis the way of it," Gimli agreed. "Another Master can watch and learn, but for someone who is just picking up a hammer for the first time, oh it's best not to let them near a true Master's workshop. It will just end in tears, both from the apprentice and the Master."

"And what Craft calls to you, Master Gimli?" Galadriel asked.

"The crafting of jewelry, my lady," Gimli said at once. "Forging settings and crafting the stones are a delight to me. Although truly, I find just as much satisfaction in the wielding of my axe. With the double pull on my soul, I doubt I will ever be a true Master, but I do hope to one day win a double Mastery in both."

"Ambitious! I think that you will find that Legolas shares your warrior soul, if the tales his brother have told me are true. A less likely prince you will be hard set to find. He knows and completes his duties well enough, but from what I am told he would rather spend all of his time fighting the spiders and other horrors that plague the Mirkwood," Galadriel told him.

"Having done the same, my lady, I can not blame him!" Gimli said with a smile. He had been well pleased to finally be able to fight some foul thing of Sauron's. The giant spiders had been tricky things, but he'd done his share of defending the Hobbits as they planted their flowers. He'd even managed to take out a squirrel or two before they'd gotten to a Dwarf. "As for unlikely princes, well he'd have to stand in line with my cousins." He leaned in a little. "Arda itself shuddered when Fili and Kili met with Lord Elrond's sons, you see. I would not be surprised if the four of them tricked Smaug into dying himself blue before dancing a Hobbit jig just so Kili could get that shot!"

Galadriel laughed long and hard at that, and Gimli smiled at having made her laugh. If Legolas was even half as beautiful as the Lady, Gimli would count himself the luckiest Dwarf in all of Arda, past, present and future!


	35. Chapter 35

"Prioritize cleaning supplies and bedding," Sigrid told the women of Lake Town as they began packing up their things for the trip to the mountain in the early hours of the morning, not that much had been unpacked since their arrival in Dale. "Percy! Make certain that the Men know that if they don't take food with them, there will be no supper!" She watched over the packing with a careful eye, making certain that the correct supplies were being taken on this first of many trips. She might never have seen Erebor as anything other than a visiting princess, one who had been shown every courtesy, but she was no fool. A dragon was not a careful housekeeper. Dirt and cobwebs were the very likely the least unpleasant thing they would have to deal with to get the mountain livable. She shuddered to think about what the drake's leavings were like.

They weren't taking everything with them into the mountain. Most of the families had managed to find themselves a home, or at least put some claim on a building of some sort and stored most of their goods there. They had done so simply because no one expected Lake Town to survive the passing of the Orc army from the South. That being said, there were many families who were planning on going back and rebuilding the town as soon as possible. They were mainly the fishing families, and Sigrid could not blame them for wanting to return to their lives on the Long Lake. 

Most of the rest had decided to take King Thorin up on his offer of sheltering inside the mountain for the Winter. The people of the Long Lake were not fools. Fools did not survive for long between the hazards of living on the lake and living under the former Master. It was well known that the Dwarrow had talked about using the Great Forges to heat the mountain, and knowing that they would not have to heat their own homes this Winter had tipped the balance for most in favor of living there during the harsh Winter that was to come. For harsh it would be, no matter how the battle went.

With the battle coming early, (although thank Eru and Mahal that no one would be left undefended outside the mountain!), Sigrid knew that they would have to set up basic quarters - which meant only clean enough to survive in - and focus on getting whatever infirmary was inside the mountain absolutely spotless and well set up for wounded. Their supplies and animals that they had hidden away in the forest village would have to be retrieved after the battle by whoever was still hale enough for the journey. 

Sigrid also, although she did so with an internal wince and guilty feeling, knew that because not everyone would survive the battle their stores would last longer than most people were thinking. It wasn't that she didn't want people to survive, it was simply a fact that not everyone would, and that the more food the survivors had the more likely they would survive until Spring. It was a hard fact that every ruler had to face, that of what to do when the supplies for Winter weren't what they should be, and how to avoid that. Selfish rulers made certain that they themselves would not want in that situation, fortunately she had been taught by watching her father, King Thranduil and King Dain wrestling with the problem. It made her very aware that although no one wanted any of their people to die, the fact that some would was going to make things easier on the rest of them.

Sigrid shoved that thought aside and, after making certain that they were leaving no one behind, went to the front of the line of people. "THE ORCS WILL GET HERE IN ELEVEN DAYS! WOMEN, YOU NEED TO HELP PREPARE FOR WOUNDED! MEN, YOU NEED TO WORK WITH THE DWARROW TO FIND ARMOR AND WEAPONS FOR YOU TO USE! AND OUR NEW ELVISH FRIENDS NEED TO PREPARE FOR THEIR ARMIES TO ARRIVE! I WILL NOT SPECULATE ON EVERYTHING THAT YOU NEED TO DO TO PREPARE, ONLY TELL YOU THAT YOU MUST! SETTLING IN FOR THE WINTER WILL COME AFTER THE BATTLE IS OVER! FOR NOW - ON TO EREBOR!" With that, she turned and led them up what was left of the road to the mountain.

In the predawn light the road, such as it was, was clear enough to navigate, and so it did not take long for them to reach Erebor. There, between the two grand statues of Dwarrow warriors that she'd never learned the names of, were the main gates. Those gates were open, and there standing proudly were all fourteen of Thorin Oakenshield's Company - including her Fili.

"WELCOME, ALL OF YOU, TO EREBOR!" King Thorin called out. "I'M AFRAID THAT THE DRAGON LEFT THE MOUNTAIN IN SOMETHING OF A MESS, BUT GIVEN TIME IT WILL BE SET BACK TO RIGHTS. FOR NOW, PLEASE KEEP TO THE CORRIDORS AND HALLS THAT YOUR ESCORTS SHOW YOU UNTIL SUCH TIME AS THE REST OF THE MOUNTAIN CAN BE INSPECTED AND MADE SAFE FOR OCCUPATION! WE HAVE SET ASIDE HALLS FOR YOUR USE FOR THE WINTER, AND HOPE THAT OUR HOSPITALITY, SUCH AS IT MAY BE FOR NOW, WILL SEE YOU SAFE UNTIL SPRING! FOR NOW, PLEASE ALLOW DWALIN, SON OF FUNDIN, MY CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD TO ASSIGN ESCORTS TO YOU, AND THEY WILL SHOW YOU WHERE YOU ARE STAYING DURING YOUR TIME IN EREBOR!" Dwalin stepped forward, and Sigrid gratefully left her people in his care. 

As the group from Dale began moving into the mountain, with Balin, Ori and Bilbo feverishly scratching away at parchment documenting who was in each group, Sigrid and Tauriel sought out their husbands. "Come with us!" Kili said, as he grabbed Tauriel's hand and began dragging her off.

Sigrid and Fili glanced at each other, both of them rolling their eyes at Kili's enthusiasm as they followed. "We're going to be setting up in the palace later," Fili informed her. "There wasn't time last night to clear out any of what will be our chambers, but Uncle Thorin and Ori picked out and went over the halls where we're putting everyone and Bombur got the palace kitchen up and running. It was our practice in Thorin's Halls to have a communal kitchen and dining area, especially over the Winters. That way we could make certain that everyone got something to eat, even when there wasn't much to go around. Once we've dealt with Smaug's corpse, we'll be doing the same in the Hall of Kings. It's the only place I know of that's big enough to house all of us at meal times."

"That's a good idea," Sigrid said, thinking about how easy it would be for people who had nothing to be missed if everyone was looking after themselves, at least until someone died of hunger. 

"A far better one than for some to go hungry while others feast," Tauriel agreed from where Kili was tugging her on ahead. The three of them followed Kili into the small hall that Thorin's Company had taken over. Fili and Kili showed their wives where their bedrolls and packs were, so that the ladies could put their things there before getting started with all of the work that needed to be done. "What needs to be done first?" Tauriel asked.

"Getting the Men settled," Fili said, "And then scrubbing the healing halls down to the bedrock."

"After that, the dragon needs to be butchered and we need to get everyone who will be fighting armed and armored," Kili agreed.

"Then let's get started," Sigrid said, catching Fili's hand in hers. "Lead on!"

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It was chaos inside Erebor. Water still flowed through pipes, and now that the first three of the Great Forges were burning, (with more to come as Gloin and Bifur checked out each forge and the mechanisms that fed coal into them and put them to use - the third having been lit soon after the Men arrived), there was a choice between hot and cold water. That thrilled Bilbo, as having hot, running water meant that much of the clean up could be done with hot, soapy water, not to mention actually being able to take hot baths again. That delight hadn't happened nearly often enough while they were traveling to his mind. Admittedly, the soap was all dry and crumbly, but it still worked, (and there was more than plenty of it!), and suds were the order of the day as he worked supervising the women with Oin and Lake Town's midwife, Hilda, to get the healing halls and the main infirmary clean. 

Dori was working with the older children of Lake Town, (as the youngest ones had gone to the Forest Village), to get the guest halls in working order. The Men's hall had only taken a single day, and most of that had been sorting through the debris left behind by the Clothiers. Their second day had been given over to the barracks where the Elves were to be housed. In spite of their prankster nature, Elladan and Elrohir were being very helpful in letting the children know what was needed to turn the barracks into decent living quarters - mostly dusting, removing old clothes and armor, and tearing the old bed straw apart so that the straw could be checked for mold. 

In truth, Erebor's halls were so well built that even after so many decades the straw was mostly intact with very little mold and what little had aged badly was now a fine dust. The biggest problem with the barracks was that the beds were literally carved into the rock of the walls. They were fine bed cupboards, with simple doors made from forged copper. The Elves were not fond of the idea of sleeping inside such a contraption, but the twins made it clear that the doors would remain open, so no one was to complain. After all, they would all be going to the Woodland Realm after the battle, and from there to home, and the battlements were easily reached from the rooms if an Elf had to see the sky in the middle of the night!

Inside the cupboards were stone basins, carved deeply, large enough to hold four or more Dwarrow, and filled with straw with woolen sheets and thick woolen blankets placed on top of the straw. Each bed had a niche carved out of the rock walls to hold a lantern and carved shelves to hold books or other such things. The real marvel was that the entire cupboard bed was carved out of a single section of rock, all in one piece. Even the Elves had to admit that, as long as the doors were not closed and they could see the open windows of the wall behind the battlements, they were - a bit cozy. The children had a grand time dragging the straw out and using it to re-stuff the bed-basins. The Elves would be using their own bedrolls as bedding, and Dori quickly confiscated what blankets and sheets had survived to send to the healing halls.

Once the healing halls and the main infirmary had been scrubbed to death by the women of Lake Town, (it had only taken a single morning as the women were determined that the halls WOULD be ready for the battle's wounded), most of them had turned their attention to Smaug's corpse. (The rest had gone on to help the healers set up the rest of what was needed.) "WOMEN OF LAKE TOWN!" Fili called from up on top of Smaug as they walked into the Hall of Kings. "If you'll look, you'll see knives, daggers and pry bars in chests at the doors to the hall! Please take one or more at your choosing! They'll be needed to get this messy job done! In order to get at Smaug's skin, we need to pry the scales off! Please place the scales into one of the chests you'll find surrounding the dragon! Gold, gems and the like should be placed in the barrels ! Those chests will be taken to the armory to make arrowheads for your Men! The barrels were filled with salt, and will be taken down to the treasury to be dumped into the salt water, so that the gold and gems can be washed of Smaug's taint! Bones, teeth, claws and hide will be also be washed and dried just like the gold! The flesh will be burned outside of Erebor!"

Fili climbed down off of the dragon, noting that the women were already eagerly getting to work on prying Smaug's corpse apart. He had suspicions that someone, (cough, Sigrid, cough), had told them that this hall would be the dining hall once the dragon was dealt with and the women were eager to get the hall cleared. He certainly did not mind. He grabbed up his own tools and set to with more than willing hands. 

This was the way Smaug would pay the wergild to Erebor's Dwarrow and the Men of Lake Town, with every piece of him that could serve a purpose. Scales would become arrowheads or attached to leather to make scale armor. Hide would become dragon leather, each split of hide as supple as cloth but harder than steel, to be used to Thorin's order, most likely in making leather armor either to trade with the Elves or as a foundation for even better armor, it depended upon what the armorers could come up with. Although, to be honest, Fili wouldn't put it past a few Dwarrow to want to wear dragon leather as a statement, rather than as armor; a slap in the face of all dragons as it were. Claws and some of the teeth would be traded to the Elves for them to use in their Crafting. The rest of the teeth Thorin had claimed for some use of his own, although his uncle was being rather cagey about just what it was that he had in mind for them. Fili didn't mind. He didn't have to know everything about what was to be done with all of the dragon parts, after all he had no idea what the bones would be used for, other than those would go to the Men. All in all, everything would go to help cement relations among the three kingdoms.

As for the Men, the Elves who were not helping the children with their quarters, and those Dwarrow who were not over seeing some aspect of restoration, they were all combing through the armories. Kili was working with Dwalin on picking out which shirts of chainmail were best suited to be adjusted to which Man. The notes that Bilbo had taken in Lake Town allowed for the sorting, (that is each chainmail shirt being picked out for each Man and adjustment notes for each one being attached before being sent down to the Great Forges to the Men's blacksmith and his apprentices as well as those Dwarrow who could be spared to work on them for adjusting), to go much quicker than Dwalin had hoped. 

The Men were working on finding a sword, daggers and shield for each Man who were not archers, although the archers were given a sword and dagger as well. The archers were busy turning Smaug's scales into arrowheads, each scale being ground down on the sides until they were of the correct shape and sharpness. (Kili had already made certain to ask if he could have some for his own arrows, although he did not plan on standing with the archers in this battle. As a prince he would have to be at the forefront of the charge, but he really wanted some of those dragon scale arrowheads!) The Elves were taking the chests of arrowheads and setting up to make more arrows for their bows as they already had armor and their long knives. (And if a certain Elf with long red hair was busy working on shorter arrows, no one even blinked.)

The next four days flew by. 

The rest of Lake Town's population were the first to arrive. It seemed that they had only waited as long as it took for daylight to break after Durin's Day before leaving for Dale and Erebor. Not wanting to take a chance with their animals, they'd left them behind with a few caretakers, bringing with them only what food they could carry. By the time they reached Erebor, they were, (as Sigrid had predicted), exhausted. Sigrid, Hilda and Tauriel got them all settled down in the old Clothier's hall, reunited with their families. The looks on everyone's, (well almost, although Alfrid and his cronies had been left behind in the Forest Village, not everyone was happy to be in Erebor), was enough for Sigrid to feel good about leaving the group to sleep off their hard trek. There would be time enough in the morning to send someone to Thorin's war council.

Thranduil's people were the next to arrive a day later, and Tauriel quickly had them set up. She had worked with Thranduil's general for decades, and knew exactly how to handle him and through him, his people. Being flat out told that the Dwarrow king was himself sleeping on the bare stone floor of a small hall just outside of the palace itself, and that he'd made certain that the Elves would have as much access to the sky as physically possible went a long way to quiet any grumbling. It certainly helped that the old guard captain's quarters were given to Thranduil and the princes. Not that the five of them stayed for any great length of time there. They too spent most of the day they arrived in Thorin's war chamber, planning for the battle and going over what had occurred the last time the Orcs had tried to invade the mountain.

Two days later the caravan arrived.


	36. Chapter 36

Thorin had been warned as soon as the caravan had been spotted, not something that was especially difficult seeing as how the stonemasons were at the front of the caravan quickly throwing together a road for the caravan to use. To say the least, it made for an interesting sight. For one thing, although the caravan itself was behind the stonemasons, and no one was getting in their way, it seemed like every Hobbit that wasn't driving a wagon was spreading out between Dale and Erebor, swarming around, checking out the waterways, checking the buildings of the old city, picking up rocks and waving them around at other Hobbits - apparently discussing something of a serious nature about said rocks, and just generally acting like madmen, at least that was how they appeared to Dwarrow. Thorin at least, was certain that it was a very serious matter. After all, the Hobbits were mainly land healers, and he doubted that they would be able to do their work if they didn't actually look at the land itself!

Thorin and Sigrid stood on the battlements, watching the Hobbits. It didn't take long for Bilbo and Fili to join them as they waited for the caravan to reach the gates. The four of them would be the ones to officially welcome the caravan to Erebor. "What in Arda are they doing?" Sigrid finally asked, confused.

Bilbo smiled. "They're beginning a survey," he explained. "There's all sorts of things that need planning out for next Spring and the cleansing that we will be doing, such as how much healing the land will need, and which parts should be first. There's also the decision of where to put Dale's farms and our settlement - not to mention such things as the new irrigation channels, new roads and the new fauntling gardens. We talked about that before we left the Shire, and it's been decided that as things will still be dangerous for some time yet, we would share the fauntling gardens in one big field provided that we can find one that is protected enough and we'll hold them in common until such time as the danger passes."

Thorin hummed thoughtfully. "Say about 80 years or so?" he guessed.

Bilbo flashed him a small grin. "Something like that," he agreed. "After all, it would not do for there to be fauntlings planted all over the place when Sauron's forces come calling. No need to place them in danger. In do fact, I've actually taken a look around and I think that I've found a place that would be a very nice place to grow Dwobbits. It's here on the mountain side, but still protected from dangers."

"What are Dwobbits? And fauntlings for that matter?" Sigrid asked curious.

"Fauntlings are baby Hobbits, and a Dwobbit is what Fili and Kili have started calling those children who can claim a Dwarf and a Hobbit as parents," Thorin said with a sigh. "There are many who have begun courting in the caravan, according to the caravan master."

"Children, you're talking about planting children?" Sigrid asked in disbelief.

"Oh, are Men like Dwarrow then, that their children are grown inside their females?" Bilbo asked, with a little shudder. "Not that it's any of my business, but that sounds so terrible for a female to be taking that sort of risk! What if something went wrong? Why, the lady in question might become ill! Or worse, might even die! And what would couples who are both lads or lasses do? No, far more sensible to my mind is the planting."

"Yes, our children are born of their mothers," Sigrid said, glancing at Thorin and Fili. Thorin simply nodded and shrugged. He certainly did not mind the Hobbit way of doing things.

Fili grinned at her. "I'm glad that's the case. I'm still not sure about the planting, although it seems to work well enough for Hobbits."

"Well, I do have to admit that there is always a risk," Sigrid said to Bilbo, throwing Fili a smile. "My own mother died of childbed fever. We were fortunate that Tilda lived. So where are you planning this fauntling field?"

Bilbo pointed rather haphazardly over his shoulder. "There's a rather nice terrace near the palace kitchens. I'm not certain what the proper name for the formation is, but it's a rather like a section of the mountain side has been taken out like a faunt taking a giant lick of icing out of a bowl. There's a good 10 acres of land sheltered inside of the area and it's surrounded on all sides by high walls. It actually has very fertile soil, if a bit rocky, but then I imagine that Mahal's children would want a bit of rock in their fields," Bilbo said with a grin. Sigrid grinned back at the joke, knowing the Dwarrow's reputation of being rock heads for their pure stubbornness.

Thorin laughed. "I should have known that you'd find the palace kitchen gardens! That was where the head cooks had their spices, and such things that needed to be extremely fresh, grown. The side of the mountain nearest the kitchens is where the chimneys run, so that the frailer plants would get warmth from the kitchen fires all year long. There's another such garden nearer the base of the mountain where the healers had their medicinal plants grown. However, most of our needs were met by trading with Dale," he said, nodding to Sigrid. He did not mind telling her this. It was not handing her a weakness that her family could exploit. He was telling her a weakness that she as queen would need to guard against.

Bilbo nodded in perfect understanding. "Well, when we're a bit more settled, we need to look into building some greenhouses to supplement what those gardens can grow. Many Shire crops can be grown in a short amount of time, but I'd rather not try to limit our meals to just those things. My tomatoes are definitely going to need a greenhouse," he sighed wistfully.

"Then a greenhouse you shall have, Amralime," Thorin said with a smile. "I am certain that was one of the things I was told to gift you as a courting gift by your uncle the Thain of the Shire."

Bilbo groaned and put his head down on the wall in front of him. "I admit to telling him that I'd hinted at a greenhouse to your sister," he said, rather guiltily. "Don't let that be a demand though, greenhouses are NOT official courting gifts among Hobbits. Ensuring that your Match has a home to come home to, things that will help turn a smial or cottage into a home, and a garden are the sorts of things that are the important gifts. The biggest one is a private garden just for the courting couple. After all, a fauntling garden can't be created until the couple has their own garden!"

Thorin laughed. "I know that, Amarlime," he said. "It's just that the Thain had heard a great deal about Thorin's Halls while he was there. He had even spoken to some of the Men who live nearby and learned that the land is too cold to grow some of your favorite crops. He told me that in order for you to be able to grow them here, you would need a greenhouse, and as it is such a large undertaking, it would be a good idea for it to be a courting gift as no one likes people who flaunt their wealth. Besides, I would not have you denied something that would bring you as much pleasure as your favorite plants would."

Bilbo merely shook his head and changed the subject. "Oh look! They're finally here!" He then scurried off of the battlements, headed for the gates.

Fili looked at Thorin. "They really don't get what it means to be King under the Mountain do they?" he asked cheerfully, as he grabbed Sigrid's hand and followed after Bilbo.

"No, but I am glad that he accepts me in spite of it," Thorin said. Then they were before the gates, and the Dwarrow manning them were welcoming the stonemasons. Thorin greeted them, and thanked them for rebuilding the ancient road.

"Not a problem, Your Majesty!" the foreman said with pride. 

Thorin noticed that Gloin and Legolas had joined the group waiting for the caravan. He honestly wasn't surprised. While Gloin had been separated from his family the shortest amount of time of everyone in the Company, it had still been months since he'd seen Gimli and Sylvi. As for Legolas, well there was no doubt why he was here - to catch a glimpse of his One, and perhaps make that all important first introduction. 

Thorin had known of their connection long enough that he was no longer surprised at it. Nor was he surprised at the fact that Mahal had created two such bonds among the royals of both realms. Having one prince and one member of the royal house in each pairing helped to ensure that the Woodland realm and the kingdom of Erebor would be allies once more, no matter what Thranduil thought of the Dwarrow. And that was another thing, how would Thranduil take his youngest son being Ones with a Dwarf? Thorin had no idea how that was going to go down, but he doubted that it would end well. Gloin had assured him though, that the Elf princes had a plan, and also that Thorin really didn't want to know about it.

Thorin took Gloin at his word and firmly dismissed it from his mind before moving to stand on top of one of the boulders next to the guardian statue at the right side of the gates. He could see Gimli now, walking beside the oxen pulling the very first wagon, and Sylvi riding her pony next to him. It was time. He'd wanted to make this speech for so long, but all of the words that he'd tried to work out before meant nothing to him now. Now there was only one thing that he wanted to say - the one thing that he hadn't been able to say last time as he'd gone and gotten himself killed long before his people had come back to the mountain.

"DWARROW OF EREBOR! WELCOME HOME!" Thorin cried out in his loudest voice, so that as many Dwarrow could hear him as possible. "WELCOME ALSO TO OUR GUESTS FROM RIVENDELL AND LORIEN! WELCOME TO OUR NEW NEIGHBORS, HOBBITS OF RHODD BYTHOL! WELCOME ALL TO EREBOR!"

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Seeing his king standing there on top of the boulder, welcoming everyone to Erebor, was a sight that Gimli would never forget. Not that he got to see it for long. As soon as his wagon reached the gates, his father was there with an Elf, both of them urging him to lead his oxen to the left of the gates, and into the wagon storage caverns. His Amad was out of sight, (but not out of earshot as he heard her directing the rest of the wagon drivers to their places. Gimli and hopefully his father, Gloin, would see her as soon as her duties as caravan master were done.), as he manoeuvred his wagon into the first space, as far from the cavern doors as possible, so that the rest of the caravan could file in behind him. 

It was after he'd gotten his oxen unhitched, and a couple of young Men had led them away to the stables on the other side of the main gates that Gimli got a good look at the Elf with his father. Oh Mahal, it looked like his father and Bilbo Baggins had gotten it wrong. He did recognize his One right away. He didn't have to imagine what sort of reason he'd had for not telling them about that, letting them think that he'd not realized who his One was at first. Elves and Dwarrow had been at odds for Ages. Without Kili and his One to show his people that yes, it could happen, and so few of the Elves, (and none of the Dwarrow), remembering Celebrimbor and Narvi, it was little wonder that he'd tried to turn his back on his One.

That was not going to happen this time around though! "I am Gimli, son of Gloin, at your service, Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm," Gimli said with his best courtly bow.

"You know me, Gimli?" Legolas asked, stunned.

Gimli shrugged. "I know you as my One, and I have been told that your name is Legolas, that you are the youngest son of Thranduil, king of the Woodland Realm. That you stand next to my father, and he isn't the least bit upset about it tells me that the two of you are getting along. So I have no need to hide the fact that I know you."

Legolas sobered. "I am thankful that your father does not think ill of me. Alas, I cannot say the same for mine, and that I must subject you to his wrath. I have waited to tell him that you are my Heart's Ease. At first it was because there was so much else going on that I believed it would stop his heart, or burst the blood vessels in his head. Now I must tell him, introduce you to him, and hope that it will send my father into such a rage as to send him straight to the healers."

"Tis an odd thing to hope for, if you don't mind my saying so," Gimli said, a little confused. He'd been expecting apologies in advance for Thranduil's expected disdain for Dwarrow, not that Legolas was hoping for it!

"My father took an injury many centuries ago," Legolas explained. "A blast of dragonfire directly to his face. It blinded him and left him with rages that are easy to trigger, but he is our king, and he refuses to allow my eldest brother to take the throne so that he may sail, as he feels our people still need him. He is determined to lead our people in this battle, but he is blind and my brothers and I are hoping that he flies into such a rage at our soul bond that he will be forced by the healers to sleep through the battle all together."

Gimli nodded. "Thus saving his life and saving face in front of the other leaders here," he said. "I understand, and I will do what I can to help. To allow a blinded warrior to return to battle, well we're not that desperate yet. I'm certain that he's a fine king to your people, but a king does not need eyes as a warrior does. A king needs wisdom and a caring heart. That he refuses to sail rather than abandon his people means a great deal. I will let him rage at me and take no offence at it, no matter his reasons for it."

"That's my little star! We'll met up with your Amad in the Hall of Kings once Thranduil's sorted," Gloin said with pride. "As for why Thranduil hates Dwarrow, it's simple enough. Petty Dwarves killed his Da during one of the great battles."

Gimli nodded in understanding. "And like many of our people, he blames all Dwarrow for his loss, just as we blame him for our losses after Smaug's attack. We Dwarrow aren't the only ones who can hold a grudge. Speaking of the beast - I know that Kili killed the dragon, but tell me of how it went!"

With that invitation Gloin launched into a grand telling of the chase through Erebor's chambers and halls, the Dwarrow and Hobbit taunting the dragon until, so enraged was Smaug that he never noticed the trap that had been set as Gloin and Legolas led Gimli up to the war chamber where Thranduil and his other sons were waiting upon the arrival of Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel so that they could integrate the troops that they were bringing.

"So that's how you got burned?" Gimli asked, motioning towards Gloin's ear.

"Yes, and how lucky was I that I only lost an ear and a little hair!" Gloin laughed as they approached the war chamber.

"Indeed, Master Gloin, you were most fortunate," came the cold voice of Thranduil from inside the chamber.

"Aye, we all were. Mahal was watching over us, no doubt," Gloin agreed cheerfully as the three of them entered the war chamber.

"Da, may I present you to Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel?" Gimli said. "My Lord and Lady, this is my father, Gloin, son of Groin, and one of King Thorin's Company." Gimli polished off his introduction with a small bow.

His polished introduction was met with a laugh, as his father said, "Gimli lad, we all met when we were in Rivendell. It's good to see the two of you again, my Lord, my Lady," Gloin said with a polite bow, ignoring Gimli's flush.

Gloin went on to talk with the Lady, and Gimli took the opportunity to look around. A large stone table dominated the room, surrounded by what he guessed were the leaders of the forces now assembled in Erebor. The Lady Galadriel and his father were talking with Bilbo Baggins, as well as Priestess Honeysuckle and Captain Fosco Boldger, Captain of the Hobbit's Bounders. Lord Elrond was talking with his Uncle Oin, and several others of each represented race, including his daughter the Lady Arwen. Gimli guessed that they were all healers from the sound of it. Bard had joined up with King Thorin, and Gimli's cousins Fili and Kili - as well as two lasses that Gimli did not recognize - one an Elf, and one a Daughter of Men. He guessed that those two were his new cousins, Fili and Kili's wives.

That left just one group of Elves - an Elf Lord, with several Elves standing in attendance. From the looks of him, and the others, Gimli guessed that this was Thranduil, his One's father, and Legolas' brothers. Yes, this was a good place and time to get this done. Lord Elrond was supposed to be the best healer in all of Middle Earth, and his daughter lacked only the experience the Lord had to be even better. Thranduil would be in good hands once they'd set him off. He glanced at Legolas and gave a slight nod.


	37. Chapter 37

Erebor was far grander than she'd ever dreamed of - and that was just the outside of the mountain! Holly looked around as much as she could even as she guided her cows and wagon in through the grand gates of Erebor and into what she could see was a cave filled with a great many wagons and other such conveyances. She and her family were directed to park their wagons next to each other, and then to follow a young Man to where the stables where they could house their cattle.

Stone stalls with wooden gates across the fronts of each one were packed with old straw. Not one of them smelled musty though, so Holly had no problems bedding her cows down in a single stall together. Another plus for bringing woolly cows instead of an oxen of a bigger breed. The young Men and a few Elves were making certain that each stall had an adequate amount of hay and there was fresh water flowing across the back of the stalls in a special trough. All in all, it was a fine place for their animals to bed down for the Winter. Holly, Ivy and her parents each claimed a second stall for the rest of their animals before joining one of the groups being shown to the Hobbit Hall as some were now calling it.

The corridors to the hall were grand, all tall and wide with many carvings that Holly at least couldn't make heads or tails of, at least other than they were breathtaking. Their guide explained that any corridor with a sheaf of grain with bushels of root crops went to the kitchens. Carvings of mushrooms meant that the corridors went to the mushroom farms. The carvings of seven stars meant that this part of the mountain belonged to the royal family, being part of the palace grounds. It wasn't where the royal family lived, he reassured them, seeing the taken aback looks on the Hobbits faces. No, this was where the palace servants usually lived. His Majesty, King Thorin had felt that they would be most comfortable living close to the mushroom farm that served the palace kitchens.

That perked up the Hobbits like nothing else could have. "Can you imagine," Ivy asked, carrying some of her bedding as she walked next to Holly. "Mushrooms left to grow wild for a century and a half? It'd be like a forest of mushrooms!"

Holly nodded over her own armful of bedding. "We'd better check that as soon as we have a place to stay for the Winter. All of those mushrooms growing so near the dragon have to be cleansed before they can be used, and the Lady knows that's likely to be the only fresh food we'll have, at least at first, and not just the farm nearest the palace kitchens. This isn't just an underground town after all. It's an entire city that used to house an entire Dwarrow nation! There has to be many such farms around."

"You're right," Ivy agreed. "The mushrooms farm nearest to the palace kitchens - Lady, we're going to have to give it a name because that's too long to say - anyway, that one probably only has the delicacies growing in it. There's got to be some farms that have the staple kind of mushrooms. From what Dwek told me, mushroom stew is one of the main meals that Dwarrow miners live on."

"Oh, what do they like in it?" Holly asked. Mushrooms were rare in their household, only finding their way into their mother's pots when they or their siblings had managed to find a lone mushroom out in the woods or managed to scrump a few from one of the farmer's mushroom caves.

"Mushrooms and root crops for the most part, meat if they can get some," Ivy said. "I plan to ask if I can get a job in the palace kitchens so that I can learn Dwarrow cooking. It won't do for me not to know how to cook for my dwarf!"

"I had planned to do the same," Holly agreed. That was when their group was ushered into a rather grand hall. There were fireplaces at each end of the hall, both with fires blazing hot and large stone tables with stone benches running down the length of the hall. There was also a second story balcony that ran all the way around the top half of the hall.

"Girls, up here!" their mother called, and Holly and Ivy looked up to the second story to see their mother gesturing to them with Daylilly beside her. The twins waved and looking around, saw a wooden sign written in Green Tongue that said stairs next to a doorway about halfway down the hall. Holly didn't know who had made the sign, but it was a blessing for the two of them.

The twins hurried over to the doorway and up the staircase they did indeed find within. That staircase carried on both down and up, but they got off on the second floor of the hall. Once out that door, it was fairly easy to find where Daisy Smallburrow was standing next to yet another door. "It's like living in one of the Great Smials!" Holly exclaimed, as Daisy ushered her eldest daughters inside the room.

It wasn't much of a room, not that any of them were expecting anything more than that. After all, there had been a dragon in residence for over a century and a half! They expected the mountain city to be a grand mess so it made sense that regular homes would not be available for who knew how long. No, a single room with a fireplace, and it seemed several cupboards carved into the walls and a stone table was more than fine. "Those cupboards are beds, girls," Daisy said, gesturing to the far right hand wall. There were three along that wall, and Snowdrop poked her head out of the one in the middle. 

"You and Ivy have the one on that end, and your sisters have the one where Snowdrop is. Your father and I will share the last. The cupboards on the other side of the room are for storing the rest of our goods. Master Bombur, who led our group in here, said that we are to go to the main hall for coal and wood for the fireplace while we're here. All meals will be taken inside the Hall of Kings, not sure where that is just yet, but if we have any food that we're not saving for next Spring or any seeds to use for sprouting, that's to be taken to the palace kitchens. It's share and share alike while we wait until the farms can get started after the Spring thaw. Bathing rooms are communal," Daisy said with a slight wince, "but at least they are segregated. Females go to the right, and males to the left. What they call elimination rooms are not, so knock on the doors before entering. They're both supposed to have hot and cold running water as well so that's one less thing to worry about. I'll show you where they are all at before we head back on down to the wagons so that we can take our share of the supplies to the kitchens."

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Legolas took a subtle deep breath before taking Gimli's hand and leading him towards Thranduil. "Father, may I present Gimli, son of Gloin - my Heart's Ease," he said simply. There was no reason to delay the drowning of his father's wishes for a Sindar mate for his youngest son. As soon as the words finished leaving his lips he could see the burning begin in his father's eyes.

"Your Majesty, King Thranduil of the Woodland realm, it is a pleasure to meet you," Gimli said with a formal bow, but Legolas did not let go of his hand. He was, he would admit to himself at least, shaking a bit in his boots. Feeling Gimli's sturdy hand in his was grounding in a way that he'd never felt before, and it was not a feeling he was willing to give up, especially right now.

"You dare to try and claim my son? To sully my child with your filthy, greedy..." Thranduil's voice began to rise almost immediately as he rose from his chair. 

"It is I who claim him, Ada," Legolas interrupted, trying to soften his father's anger, even as he hoped that it would peak quickly.

"YOU!" Thranduil began in a wavering growl, only for Lord Elrond to burst into the conversation as Thranduil listed to the side.

Elrond began chanting before he'd even gotten close to his fellow Elven ruler. As he reached Thranduil, he touched the other Elf's forehead, and Arwen was there to take Thranduil's weight as he sagged into unconsciousness. They blocked the sight of the Elvenking from the others as the magic hiding his facial injuries faded away, leaving the horrific burns visible to all. Arwen joined in the chant, her hands joining her father's. When the two finally ended their chant, Elrond directed Rivalion to take his father to the infirmary. The younger healer nodded and he deftly carried his father away.

"What in all of Arda?" Thorin finally asked. Everyone else was staring at the two Elves.

"His brain began bleeding," Arwen explained as Elrond sat down heavily. "He couldn't stand straight, and that side of his face began to sag as the muscles could no longer hold their shape. His words began to slur. His anger and the old dragonfire injury are the most likely causes. Fortunately we caught it in time."

"How long has he had these rages?" Elrond asked.

"Ever since he woke from facing the dragon," Legolas admitted. "We knew they came from his injury, and so we did not blame him for his new temper."

"Nor do I or my family," Gimli spoke up, patting Legolas' hand. "You needn't worry about that."

"What can be done for him?" Calithildir asked. Legolas knew that his elder brother was far more shaken than the others realized. Calithildir could not let himself show any weakness right now. As the heir to the Woodland realm, he had to step up and take over their father's position while their father rested in the infirmary.

Elrond and Arwen looked at each other with sad faces. "There is nothing we can do," Elrond admitted. "There is no choice. If he does not sail, then he will die. The bleeding is nothing that we can fix."

Legolas staggered, and Gimli helped him to a chair. "This is all my fault," he began, but Arwen interrupted him firmly.

"NO! This is a direct result of his injury. It was only a matter of time before such bleeding began and from what I could tell, he's had bleeding before now. That it has happened now, with my father and I in attendance, means that he will live long enough to sail. At any other time, he would have been dead within minutes once the bleeding became as great as it was this time," she said, using the firm voice of a healer who knew with absolute certainly what she was talking about.

Elrond seconded her. "She is right, young Legolas. This is no fault of yours, in fact I can only thank you for waiting until my daughter and I were here before breaking this news to your father. May I offer you my congratulations on finding your Heart's Ease? And to you, young Gimli, for finding your One?"

Gimli and Legolas murmured their thanks, even as Legolas leaned heavily on Gimli's shoulder. "We knew that this news would trigger one of his rages," Legolas confessed. "I had hoped that telling him now would allow us to send him into a healing sleep long enough that he would miss the battle. He is a good king, but he is blind and should not be sent out into battle, even if his position means that he should lead our people into battle."

"That he would not shirk his duty to his people is commendable," Thorin said at last, breaking the silence following Legolas' confession. "As are your actions to save your king's life. It is a difficult position that you were put in. Let it be known now that I and my people do not blame you for your actions. Like Lord Elrond, I can only commend you for making certain that he was seen by the best healer possible when breaking such news to your father."

The other leaders in the room agreed with King Thorin, and Gimli tugged on Legolas' hand. "Come, let us go down to the infirmary, so we can sit with your da," he said. Legolas took a shaky breath and let his Heart lead him away from the war chamber.

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"Ach, poor lad," Gloin broke the silence that filled the war chamber once Gimli and Legolas had left the room. "Tis a hard thing to have that on your shoulders."

Elrond shook his head. "It does not matter what he said, the greater amount of bleeding would have come the next time the rage came upon Thranduil. Anyone and anything could have set him off, and as I said, by making certain that I and Arwen were there to see to him when a rage was set off, he saved his father's life." 

"Do you think that he will live until he can reach the Grey Havens?" Calithildir asked, subdued.

Elrond nodded. "I will make the journey to the ships with him provided that I survive the coming battle. If I do not, then Arwen will," he promised. "In fact, I believe that it would be best for him to remain in a healing sleep until after his ship sails. I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think that if he wakes, he will remember that his youngest is soul bound to a Dwarf, and that will simply send him over the edge once more."

"And that will kill him," Calithildir said, closing his eyes in pain.

"Yes," Elrond said simply. 

"And so, I, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain, welcome the new Elvenking, King Calithildir to Erebor. May your reign be long and peaceful," Thorin said with all solemness and gravity he could bring as everyone knew that the Elf did not want to take over for his father. If he'd had, it would have been far easier for him to have done it centuries ago. One by one the other leaders chimed in with their own agreement that Cal was now king of the Woodland realm and gave him their own wishes for a long, quiet reign.

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Ivy did end up with a position in the palace kitchens, if only because she was one of the first to ask Master Bombur. She was to be an under cook, one of those who's main job was preparing ingredients for cooking. Holly was also given a job, only hers was to help prepare meals for the soon to be invalids. Bombur promised her that he would personally teach her how to prepare the meals so that they would be tasty for recovering Dwarrow. They'd traded recipes that would help someone recover from an injury, something that Holly was keen to learn. After all, what healer's wife would not be helping with those injured under her husband's care?

Holly told Bombur that she was going to go straight to the mushroom farm to see what she could do about making certain that the mushrooms were safe to eat. He assigned one of the young Daughters of Men, a girl named Frida, to take her there. Frida was taller than she was, a fact that thrilled and fascinated the young girl, and they chatted as they headed for the farm. They both stopped at the entrance to the cavern, and Frida gestured around. "I'm not sure what you can do with all of this, Miss Holly. I know Hobbits are supposed to be the best at farming, but it looks like a huge mess to me."

"Hmm," Holly said, as she bent down to poke at a lump of mushrooms. "It's not as hopeless as it looks, Frida. I'm not the best mushroom farmer, that claim goes to Farmer Maggot back in the Shire, but it looks like we've got several different kinds of mushrooms growing here. The beds they were growing in have all but used up their strata, but there is enough spore that we should be able to get them growing well again."

Holly led Frida over to one pile. "See, look here. That's a log group. There was probably a large stack of logs here, and the mushrooms were started at the top. As time has gone by, the mushrooms have eaten up the logs until there is only this much left."

"Is there enough left?" Frida asked, worried.

Holly patted her hand. "Not to fear, there's enough logs left for at least another decade or two. The rest of the beds look to have been filled with straw and manure. Now that's going to be slightly harder to get going again. We'll need to use the manured bedding from our animals. Once we've got a good mix of straw and manure, then we can see if we can rejuvenate these beds. If we can get the beds fed, then whatever spores are still viable will have a chance to grow."

"It seems like a lot of work," Frida said, doubtfully.

"Oh, not at all," Holly said cheerfully. "A single day to bring up the soiled straw and a put it into place and add a prayer or three to the Green Lady and I'm certain that this farm will be back in working order!"


	38. Chapter 38

A grim group of Hobbits looked out over Ravenhill. "This is where Azog will attempt to direct his forces from," Bilbo told Captain Boldger. "We cannot let him have that advantage. These ruins used to be where the Ravens of Erebor roosted, with the Dwarrow using it as a guard post and messenger station. The Ravens are allies of the Dwarrow. They speak Westron and are willing to take messages all over Arda in return for the safe place for their nests, a meal here and there and the odd shiny from time to time."

Fosco nodded. "More than enough hidey holes for us to use then," he said, giving the area a careful look.

"I won't presume to tell you your business," Bilbo said. "Dain's Dwarrow will be coming from the other side of the mountain, so that arm of the mountain will not be hospitable to the Orcs at all, so this is the one arm that I'm most worried about. I'm not sure that we can stop him from getting up here."

"Don't you worry, Master Baggins," Fosco assured him. "We'll make certain that Orc won't get a good foothold here. Those ruins are perfect for us to hide in - and we've faced Orcs before. My Bounders are all survivors of the Fell Winter. We've not one youngling among us. Thain Isengrim Took made certain that we all knew what we were about before allowing us to come," he said, to differentiate between the Shire's Thain and the new Thain of the Rhodd Bythol, who was also a Took. Actually Aldagrim Took, one of Isengrim's many nephews, (Bilbo's cousin and future grandfather of young Pippen Took), was the one who was taking on the responsibility of becoming the Rhodd Bythol's first Thain.

Bilbo nodded. "I'd noticed that not one of you was younger than fifty. I had wondered if you'd faced Orcs and their wargs before."

"Aye, all of us worked with the Rangers during that horrible Winter and survived. We all volunteered once we heard what was to happen here too. We know what's what. Why don't you have one of your Dwarrow introduce us to the Ravens? We'll have them bring the Armies scouting reports," Fosco said, motioning for his Bounders to move out.

Bilbo nodded. "I'll send someone right away," he promised.

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Gimli entered the infirmary, headed for the small room off the main ward where Thranduil lay in an enchanted, healing sleep. He found Legolas there with all three of his brothers. Rivalion was trying to pound into Legolas' head what Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond had said before - that nothing could have prevented Thranduil's collapse, and that by preventing Thraduil from becoming upset until Elrond and Arwen had gotten there, they'd saved their father's life. "They're right, Legolas," he said, laying his hand on his Elf's shoulder. "You don't go second guessing a healer. If they say that this is the best thing that could have happened, then that is the truth."

"How could you know?" Legolas asked, rather helplessly.

Gimli didn't take it personally. He knew that Legolas was blaming himself for his father's collapse. "Because I've lived my entire life around healers. My uncle Oin is the head healer for our people. I've been helping him since I was able to carry a package of bandages. Healing isn't my Craft, but he wanted to make certain that I could take care of myself once I was old enough to become a caravan guard and leave our halls for work among the Men. I know enough to know that second guessing a healer only brings you anguish and doesn't change the facts."

Legolas sighed, but nodded. "I should know this as well, but it does not stop my heart from crying that this was my fault."

"There's nothing but time that can heal that wound, I'm afraid," Gimli said with a sigh. "And I've naught to give you but more bad news. We'll not be fighting together when the battle comes. I've gotten my assignment. I'm to be guarding those who bring the wounded off the field. I know that your duty will be to help lead your people, but I do wish that I was allowed to stand at your side."

"I do not," Legolas said forcefully. "I am glad to hear that you will be in less danger than I. We have not had time for me to see how skilled you are in battle, nor how well we will fight together. Your duties to the wounded will not shield you completely, but as you will not be in the thick of the fighting, my heart will rest easier. Besides, if the Twice-Born are correct, there will be other battles for us to fight together. I'm told that in that time that was, we married right after one."

"I can see that," Gimli said with a sigh. "A pair who has not even trained together are more dangerous to their own side than they are to the enemy, although I do wish for us to fight together if only so that I can see for myself how you fare. As for a battlefield wedding, my Amad would have both our heads!"

Legolas' brothers all snickered at Gimli's proclamation. "Oh go ahead and laugh," he said with a grin. "But you've yet to see a Dwarrowdam on the warpath! Truly, if there were more of them, all we'd have to do would be to put them in front of Erebor and the Orcs wouldn't stand a chance! They are fierce warriors when they so chose to be, and woe betide the fool who tries to harm a 'dam's child in front of her!"

"I would rather not," Calithildir said promptly. "But as for Legolas' place in the battle, he will be with our archers on the battlements."

"Cal!" Legolas protested.

"No, Legolas," Calithildir said firmly. "You are one of our best archers. Rivalion will be with the healers, and Lamaenor will be with the spearmen. I must lead from the front, as is our custom. That leaves you to lead the archers."

"Tough luck," Gimli muttered quietly to Legolas as his Elf nodded in defeat. "I'll kill some Orcs for you."

"If you see any of our arrows, bring them back?" Legolas asked in return. "One of the children of Men will run them back up to the battlements for us."

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Thorin looked once more at the map spread out in front of him and spoke to the leaders gathered around the war chamber. "The Hobbit Bounders have taken up position here," he gestured to Ravenhill. "Dain and his army will come from the other side. There is no one in Dale, so the Orcs can waste their time trying to burst into the city if they wish. Bofur and Bifur," he nodded to the two Dwarrow, who nodded back, "have mapped out a route to Ravenhill using the old tunnels. Bard, I would have you send at least half of your Men there to back up the Hobbits and Lady Galadriel's forces. If Azog can take Ravenhill, he will have a place to direct both armies without fear of anyone taking the fight to him."

Bard nodded. "I know my Men are the least experienced at war, but we will hold Ravenhill," he promised, his second Percy nodded as well.

"There are nearly four hundred Hobbit Bounders out there," Bilbo said. "Your Men won't see them, but they are there. Don't get worried and jump out into the middle of things thinking they've been taken out. They have all fought Orcs before, and well know how to take advantage of the land so they will be hidden. Azog and his Orcs may well believe that the ruins themselves are too unstable to use as a camp as rocks keep hitting them in the head, for instance."

Bard grinned, and Fili and Kili snickered. "I will be certain to pass that on, Master Baggins. I will keep my archers here on the battlements, to stand with the others though," Bard said, tapping the map.

"Take the upper battlements," Thorin said. "The Hobbits who are not helping with the Healers as well as what archers I have will be on the lower battlements lead by Bilbo." 

Bilbo nodded, as though both relieved and fearful. "Erebor's best archers are Kili and Tauriel. They will be down with Thorin, Fili and Sigrid on the front line. I do wish that I could stay at Thorin's side, but I'm the least battle trained, so it's better for me to be leading our archers." 

Legolas and Bard nodded. "It makes sense to deploy our archers that way," Legolas agreed. "The Hobbits may not have as powerful bows as we Elves and Men, but they are far more accurate." That last had come as an unwelcome surprise to the Elves. In matters of accuracy, the Hobbits - although much smaller and thus not able to send their arrows as far - beat out everyone else on the field in spite of their lesser years of experience. The sort of trick shots that they had been showing off with had even the eldest of the Elves astounded.

Thorin touched the center of the field in front of the mountain. "In front of the gates King Calithildir's spearmen will stand behind my Dwarrow's shield wall. Only when the shield wall breaks should the Elves move out into the field of battle. That's the entire point of the shield wall, that the spearmen will be somewhat sheltered as the Orcs throw themselves onto our blades."

Calithildir nodded. "When the wall breaks apart, you and I will lead the charge against them with the rest of Bard's Men behind us, holding the gate and covering those who bring the wounded back to the mountain."

Thorin nodded. "And Dain will come up, hopefully circling around and cutting the Orcs off from their retreat. I've sent off Ravens with that message, and he assures me that he will be there in time. He brings over 2000 Dwarrow at his back."

"We may yet survive this," Gandalf said thoughtfully.

Thorin glanced at him. "You and Galadriel will do as you please, and I make no demands on any of you. You know what you can and can't do. I do not. I merely ask that if you can do something, please do so."

"And yet, you do not include me in that number," Elrond said with a raised eyebrow.

Thorin shook his head. "You have told me that to take a life reduced an Elven healer's ability to heal. We are not outnumbered over 30 to 1 this time. You will need to lead the healers. Your strength will be needed far more to save lives than to take them this time."

"I seem to recall Durin saying something similar, although much blunter once upon a time," Galadriel said with a smile. "It seems that his line is improving their diplomacy after all these centuries. Young Gimli comes by his silver tongue honestly I see," as Elrond bowed to Thorin in acceptance.

Thorin shook his head. "Gimli is a wonder to us all, and you have Bilbo to thank for my words. I swear I don't know how they do it, but given ten minutes of time they'd have everyone sitting down with tea or ale discussing matters of gardening or jewelry design as whatever grievances will have already been taken care of."

"My Lord and our forces will stay behind Ravenhill, to become the other arm to sweep around and meet up with Lord Dain," Galadriel said. She said nothing more about the diplomats of the mountain, but smiled at Bilbo with genuine pleasure.

"We'll have them caught nicely in the trap they think to catch us with," Dwalin said, pleased. 

Thorin nodded. "Bombur, how are our stores, should the worst happen and we end up besieged?"

Bombur shook his head. "There are no problems there, you Majesty. We have plenty of stores to last us until Spring, even if we simply shut the gates and let Winter take care of the Orcs. The Hobbit land healers have already begun looking at our mushroom farms and have said that there is no problems getting them back into production. We'll have our first crops from their planting within a month and I already have fresh mushrooms for dinner tonight. They've also begun scouting out places to put other types of farms around the mountain. With those and the animals they brought, we could wait out a century long siege fairly easily."

"Oin? Lord Elrond? How are your healers supplies?" Thorin asked.

"Not as well supplied as we are for food," Elrond admitted, "but we have more supplies than we are used to working with. There should be no problems. We even have a great deal of kingsfoil gathered fresh from Lake Town as we passed it. That will do much to stave off infection."

"Good, then we are prepared. After the Hobbits' first breakfast, we get into position. The Orcs should be here by mid morning. May the Valar and Eru watch over us all," Thorin said, dismissing the meeting.

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The mood in the Hall of Kings was a somber one. Everyone knew what the morning would bring, and few were looking forward to it. Oh, those Dwarrow who were primarily warriors were trying to cheer everyone up, boasting about how they'd take down the Orcs, but the Hobbits were glaring at them, while rather forcefully poking at their meal, and more than one mother among the Men had actually smacked them about the heads for scaring their little ones, while the Elves merely looked on, shaking their heads in bewilderment. 

Thorin thought that Bilbo should have been laughing at the interactions, but instead, he took was mournfully poking at his meal. He knew why of course. Tomorrow would see Azog arrive, and the last time this had happened, Thorin and the boys had died. He could practically see those memories shining in Bilbo's eyes. He decided to do something about it.

Thorin carefully stood up, calling people's attention to him. "Elves, Dwarrow, Men and Hobbits, we all know what the morning brings. I pray to Mahal and Eru that as many of us as possible will return here for our victory feast. For tonight, let us join together in celebration, for I would wish this to be my wedding feast, if my One is in agreement, for I can find no better witnesses to my marriage than those who are in this hall with us. Bilbo, does this meet with your approval?"

From the look that Bilbo shot him, Thorin knew he was going to regret putting Bilbo on the spot, but also that he really was grateful that Thorin was doing this now. "Of course! No better time than when all of our friends are in attendance!" 

With that, the gathering took a merrier turn. There were no flowers for the Hobbit traditions, there were no grand decorations for the Dwarrow traditions of a kingly wedding feast nor were there any exotic dishes for the feast itself, and the ale was passed out sparingly, but all agreed that being there to see King Thorin braid his Hobbit One's hair was more than enough, and an honor to boot.

With the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon them, Thorin carefully unraveled Bilbo's braid, only to carefully rebraid it with the marriage bead that Mahal had given him. Bilbo, after carefully doing the same, tugged on the two braids that Thorin wore behind his ears to bring Thorin down for a kiss once the beads were in and the braids finished. This was met with a roar of approval from the crowds, and those who had run for their instruments broke out in a lively tune for others to dance to.

"Well done," Lord Elrond said with a slight bow as he ostentatiously made his congratulations so no one would bother listening to his words. "They will all sleep easier tonight with the wedding on their minds rather than the battle."

"Aye," Thorin agreed quietly. "That was the plan. It's far better to get a good night's rest before a battle. Stay up too late and you're too tired to swing your blade the next day."

"We'll see to it that the gathering ends early," Galadriel promised. "The two of you should leave now as an example."

Bilbo leveled a knowing gaze at her laughing eyes, although the lady did at least make certain that her features did not show her mirth. "I'm certain that would be wise," he said, even as his eyes practically shouted that he knew exactly what the Elven Lady was thinking, and it wasn't any of her or anyone else's business. "Come on, Thorin, before the rest of the Company gets it in their heads to cheer us on up."

Thorin shuddered. That would be just like Dwalin. "Good idea, Amralime." With that, he followed Bilbo out of the hall, trying to be as quiet as he could.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this story. There is more to come in the next one. I'm glad that so many people liked, and commented on this story as it worked itself out of my mind. 
> 
> Thank you all for joining me.

Everyone was up well before first light. A hearty first breakfast was served in the Hall of Kings, and several of the Hobbits serving the meal were attempting to ensure that everyone ate a big meal. More than one Dwarrow was scolded for trying to eat lightly. "It has to last you all day! Or at least through the battle! There'll be no time to grab a bite to eat until things are all over!" was their refrain. 

Most did not have the heart to deny the small creatures their efforts to help, including Fili. "Thank you, Mistress," he said politely, as he took what was offered to him. Sigrid did the same next to him. They were both dressed in thick gambesons, and as soon as they had finished their meal they would go and get their armor. Fili led Sigrid over to the dais that had been set up at the front of the Hall for those leaders who chose to use the long table.

"I'm used to being the one to tell my people to eat well because we won't get anything until sunset," Sigrid sighed. "I hope everyone takes their advice."

"Some will, some won't," Fili shrugged. "Some will be too nervous to eat. Others will know how it feels to fight on an empty stomach. Yet others will know that they shouldn't eat at all until after the battle as they'll eject everything in their stomachs if they try. They'll eat or not. There's nothing that can be done about it now." With that, he set to filling himself up. Sigrid sighed again and ate her breakfast as well. After they had finished their meal, both Fili and Sigrid passed their dishes to a couple of Hobbits that were smaller than the rest, (which had to mean that they were young tweens as Bilbo had explained), and left the Hall to go to the royal armory. It was the only part of the palace proper that had been accessed.

"Fili, here!" Thorin called. The rest of the Company was gearing up, not only donning their new armor, but also picking backup weapons and carefully placing white beads in their hair and beards. "This is for you," Thorin said, as he carefully placed a large white bead in Fili's hand.

Fili looked it over carefully. The bead was made from bone and nearly the length and width of his thumb. Down the length of the bead were engraved runes filled in with gem dust of a fiery red, probably made from the small pieces that were carved off of rubies when the gems were shaped. It took a few moments for Fili to realize that he was holding part of a tooth, not a bone. "This is from one of Smaug's teeth!" he gasped.

Thorin grinned savagely. "Yes, and all who took part in his death have been given one made by my own hand. Balin, Oin and Gloin each have a second bead as they sacrificed part of their beards to Smaug's fire. I would honor all who helped to kill the beast."

Fili grinned. "Well, we're honored to have them, Uncle," he said, as he quickly unbraided his line braid and redid it with the bead right next to his cheekbone.

When Fili was done, Thorin gestured both he and Sigrid into a side chamber. "There isn't much, but Kili was right about Bilbo's mithril shirt not being the only one in the mountain. Here, Fili, wear this so you have a better chance at surviving the battle this time. Kili and Tauriel are already wearing theirs." Thorin handed over a set of mithril chainmail that Fili could wear under his plate armor. "I am sorry to say that we have none in your size, Sigrid."

"What Fili made for me is more than enough," Sigrid said. "That Fili has better protection this time is a good thing," she paused, and gave Thorin a firm look, "as long as you do as well."

Thorin took the slight rebuke in the spirit it was meant. "I've not been fighting gold sickness this time, so I'm clear headed enough to know not to charge out there without armor," he promised.

"Good, I prefer that we all survive this time," Sigrid said plainly as she began slipping on her chainmail.

"Mahal will it so," Fili and Thorin both prayed.

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Bard jumped as a Hobbit wearing a feathered cap simply appeared at his side. "I am sad to say that the Orc scouts are experiencing some serious problems," the Hobbit said with a wide grin. "An entire group of them were wiped out in a land slide and quite a few of the others have had serious injuries due to falling rocks. I'm afraid that the poor dears are suffering terribly."

Bard grinned in return, even as he willed his heart to settle back into his chest. He was beginning to see just why Master Baggins had told them not to worry about the smaller scouts. "That's a terrible shame, it is," he agreed. "With any luck they'll see that coming up here just isn't a good idea. Perhaps they can set up their signal tower a little lower in the valley?" 

"Probably best, but you know that Orcs aren't the sharpest spade in the shed," the Hobbit said with a sigh and a shake of the head even as he looked delighted. "Stubborn as an ox and twice as likely to keep going even in the face of all good sense. Well, no hope for it, we'll just have to keep helping the dears along." The Hobbit's face was full of mischief as he casually saluted Bard and somehow vanished.

One of the Men laughed quietly, as Bard turned back to them. "Things are looking better all the time, but don't get careless, we've still got a long way to go."

  
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Thorin stood on top of the bolder beside the main gate, this time in full armor. The Dwarrow of Erebor, some of the Men of Dale and the Elves of the Greenwood were standing before the gate in armored rows, the Dwarrow in the front and the Elves in the back with the Men directly in front of the gates. It made sense, the Dwarrow were ready to put up the shield wall and the Elves were all Spearmen with a far longer reach than the Dwarrow so their spears would reach the enemy over the Dwarrow's shield wall. The Men were swordsmen, and they would only meet the Orcs when the enemy finally broke through and the fighting broke down into melee weapons fighting. They were there mostly to guard those who were ready to bring the wounded off the field of battle as most of their Men were either with the Elven archers or with the Hobbit Bounders. Thorin had given them as safe a role as he could considering their inexperience. Suddenly Dwalin laughed loudly and called out - "HEY THORIN! LOOKS LIKE LOVER BOY"S HERE!" 

If Thorin wasn't wearing gauntlets and a helm he'd have dropped his face into his palms. Instead he closed his eyes and reached for patience. Of course Dwalin had been spreading the tale of Bilbo's gossip, because he could hear laughter spreading throughout everyone standing before the gates. "I see him, Dwalin," he said curtly, and see him he did. Azog stood on top of that damned signal tower of his, but this time it was at the back of his army. The Hobbits and the Men with them had done it. They'd kept the Orcs out of Ravenhill. It was too bad that they couldn't take out the giant bats overhead that shielded the Orcs from the sun. All it would take would be a few good rays of sunlight to make Thorin's day so much easier.

"AZOG! YOU WILL NOT HAVE THIS MOUNTAIN! NOR WILL YOU HAVE THE FREE PEOPLES OF THESE LANDS DEAD AT YOUR FEET! TURN BACK TO YOUR MASTER OR FACE DEATH AT OUR HANDS!" Thorin roared the challenge that he knew would bring Azog's wrath down on their heads.

"Bit simple that," Dwalin commented. "But I suppose you have to be when your dealing with someone as stupid as that Orc. After all, things didn't go too well last time, did it?" He was standing very calmly to Thorin's left, with the butt of his war hammer resting on the ground as he leaned on the head. He was the picture of calm relaxation in the face of the enemy. There really could not be much more of an insult than that - someone who is a veteran warrior saying with his body language that you are no threat to him. It was a pity that Azog could not see it.

"No, it did not," Thorin agreed. He jumped down from the bolder and drew Orcrist from it's sheath. He made his way to directly behind the shield wall, knowing better than to get in anyone's way, but needing to be seen as ready to lead the combined forces to victory. Fili and Kili fell in by his sides, and Sigrid and Tauriel fell in next to them. The royal family of Erebor stood proud and waiting for Azog to make his move.

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Bilbo wasn't happy to be back on the battlements once more, but as he'd already said, it made the most sense to put him there rather than in the thick of things. No matter that he'd done his best to train with Sting, he really hadn't had the time to get any good at it. His bow on the other hand, well that was another story. Some of the young children of Men, (those old enough to have a job but too young to be hands deep in dealing with wounded), and those Hobbit tweens who were not strong enough to get their arrows all the way down to the battle were busy running back and forth from where some of the injured Dwarrow were hammering out sling stones from some of the rubble that could be found around the gates and making certain that those stones were placed in piles next to the older Hobbits.

"Steady all," Bilbo called out. "There's no point in getting ourselves tired when all they're doing is just standing there. Wait for the Orcs to make the first move. They can tire themselves out dragging those contraptions of their's." Those contraptions were battle engines - Bilbo's thoughts stopped as the ground began to rumble. "Here come the were-worms!" he called out. "The second army will come through the tunnels they're digging. Watch out for the Trolls! Don't bother trying to shoot them. Leave them for the Dwarrow and the Elves down there. The only good way to take them out is to get some belladonna into them, but we can't exactly invite them to sit down for some tea!"

"Rude!" a Hobbit matron sniffed, even as she set her quiver into place on the wall. "Look at that! They're not even trying to talk!" she said, disgusted as Azog yelled out something in the Black Speech and the Orcs charged at the line of Erebor's defenders. 

"DU BEKAR!" came from down below, and Bilbo was glad to hear Thorin's voice, even as the Orcs reached the line that the Hobbits had determined was how far their arrows would reach. They'd come to an agreement with the Elves and the Men that no one would try to shoot until the Orcs had reached that invisible line.

"HAKKA PAALLE! FOR THE GREEN LADY AND HER LORD!" yelled Bilbo, and he began firing. All around him, and from above, came a hail of battle cries, arrows, and sling stones all shot right into the enemy lines. The Orcs began falling well before they reached the shield wall. Bilbo had only time for one thought. 'This is going to going to be terrible.'

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Thorin didn't know Calithildir all that well, but as far as he was concerned, the new King of the Woodlands was already a far better king than his father had been. That was because unlike last time, when the Orcs finally hit the shield wall, (and yes he had noticed Orcs falling from the waves of arrows and stones from the battlements - take THAT Azog!) the Elves did not do the stupid thing and jump over the Dwarrow's to get at the enemy. 

No, this time the Elves set up their own shield wall directly behind the Dwarrow, and when the Orcs crashed over the Dwarrow pushed up and over by their own forces, the Elves were there to crush those who made through the Dwarrow lines, and from what he could see as he was between the two lines, they often were able to kill the Orcs before they managed to get back on their feet. That was something he could get behind. "BARUK KHAZAD! KHAZAD AI-MENU!" he yelled with a grin as he began swinging Orcrist at his first foe. Mahal! He'd actually missed this - at least he did right now. He knew perfectly well that later he'd never want to see a battle again, but right now there was nothing he wanted more than to take the heads off the Orcs in front of him. 

The entire thing quickly devolved into the chaos that was a true battle. Soon Azog sent in his Trolls and other beasts. Thorin wasn't one to let his focus devolved into a tunnel. He kept his awareness open, so that he could see and hear what was happening around him. So he was aware that the Trolls and other beasts were being shot at by the archers, and that the Orcs still back with them were falling by the dozens. He'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was a rain of giant bolos, blocks of rocks on the end of giant chains, being shot into the sky and landing on top of a good portion of Azog's army.

Dain had arrived. 

And so had Galadriel's Elves along with the majority of the Men from Lake Town, because from the other side of the mountain, down from where Ravenhill's ruins were, came Elves and Men riding on horses and plowing through the back of the Orcs' armies. It was enough. They were only outnumbered 3 to 1 this time. This time they had a far greater chance of survival. "DU BAKAR!"

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Dain sent in his cavalry. The war rams and battle pigs weren't nearly as tall as some of those horses the Elves were riding, but that just meant that they could hit the Orcs harder, square in the belly rather than the head. The horses were good for trampling those down on the ground though. "Send in the chariots, and then the rest of you, follow me! BARUK KHAZAD! KHAZAD AI-MENU!" He laughed as the Dwarrow behind him began crying "FOR THE KING!" as they launched themselves at the Orcs. It was a good day to be Khazad!

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Azog sent some of his reserve troops to attack Dale. Lunt, one of the Men, cursed. "Damned Orcs. I spent weeks trying to shore up that damned wall!"

"Just be glad our people are inside the mountain," Percy told him, even as they guarded a young Gimli carrying a wounded Dwarrow back to the gates. He stabbed an attacking Orc before handing over a bunch of dragonscale arrows to Bain. "Let them waste their time." There was a deep, not-sound that had him looking over at Dale once more. A substantial number of Orcs were simply not there anymore - and what looked like a few Trolls, (or perhaps some other sort of creature, it was hard to tell anymore), were nothing more than a large pile of burnt ash. 

"Wizards have their uses," was the conclusion that the small group of Men reached, even as they headed back out into the battlefield to kill Orcs and save more of their own. 

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The Dwarrow and Elves fell back to regroup in front of the gates. Once there, Thorin, Fili and Sigrid, and Kili and Tauriel, along with Calithildir, led a charge right back into the now somewhat reduced ranks of the Orcs. Fili and Sigrid were grimly keeping pace with Thorin as he lead the Dwarrow ranks like the tip of a spear towards Azog'z signal tower. Kili and Tauriel were laughing as they fought side by side in a deadly dance. Dwalin fought beside Calithildir, as the Elf stayed close to Thorin. The Ri siblings were passing throwing axes between them by burying them inside Orc heads. Bombur was swinging a morning star and bouncing Orcs off his great belly before jumping on them. Balin had joined Dain's charioteers and was plowing through Orcs like it was a game of nine pins. 

A blind Troll with it's hands covered in metal spheres with long chains with morning stars at the ends and an Orc riding it's shoulders was ripping it's way through the Dwarrow ranks. The Elves and Men archers on the upper battlements were doing their best to turn the damned thing into a pincushion, but it had little effect. Bofur saw the situation and called to Gloin and Nori. The two Dwarrow were carrying shields, and they held them up at an angle so that Bofur could run up and over them. Bofur used the shields to launch himself right onto the Troll's arm. From there, he climbed up and knocked the Orc off with his axe. With a laugh, he took control of the Troll, grabbing the chains attached to the Troll's eyes and drove it towards the Orc lines.

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Those who had attacked Dale were no more. Between the Elves, Men, Galadriel and Gandalf, not a single Orc or Troll, (or anything else that Azog had sent), had survived. With the destruction of his reserve troops, they had Azog trapped between Erebor's defenders. The pale Orc and his troops were trapped. That was when the Eagles and the shifters arrived. The Eagles dropped shifters on top of what was left of Azog's forces, and then took to attacking the giant bats that shaded the battlefield. With each bat that fell, more and more of the sky was unblocked. Unfortunately the sky was covered in clouds, so little sunlight fell onto the Orcs. A couple of Trolls did get turned to stone as they could not get away from the sudden light fast enough, but for the most part it was the shifters that did more damage to the enemy.

Still that did not mean that there were no more Orcs to fight. Balin managed to take out 6 Trolls with his chariot. Bofur's Troll took out another. Unfortunately he was thrown when his Troll went down as well. Without more than a shrug, he grabbed up a warhammer and began attacking the Orcs around him. One got in a luck shot and knocked him down to the ground. Bifur noticed, and ran at the Orc, hitting him in the head with the axe in his own head. The two tussled, stuck together, until Bofur grabbed Bifur around the waist. Bombur grabbed Bofur and Bofur called, "PUSH!"

The three Dwarrow pushed the Orc off a short cliff until the Orc was hanging solely from the axe. The two younger Dwarrow held Bifur, not letting him be dragged over, until Bombur decided that it wasn't working. He let go of Bofur, stepped up his back and over the two other Dwarrow. He jumped down onto the Orc, the sudden shift in weight pulling the Orc off the axe. Bombur and the Orc fell the rest of the way down the cliff, and Bombur hit the Orc until his head bashed in.

Above on top of the cliff, Bofur suddenly realized, "Bifur! You've lost your axe!"

"No he hasn't!" called Bombur and hustled over to them, carrying the axe that he'd pulled out of the Orc. He handed it to Bifur.

"You know where you can stick that!" Bifur proclaimed in Westron, and threw the axe over his shoulder. "Let's get back to it!"

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Finally, at long last, it came down to Azog, Blog and a few of Azog's best warriors against the leaders of Erebor's defenders. The defenders stood in a circle around the last of the Orcs, and Bilbo pushed his way through so that he could witness Azog's end. He waved. Azog noticed the little Hobbit and seemed to go mad, attempting to rush him rather than take out anyone else. He didn't even notice five different swords, (Thorin's, Fili's, Sigrid's, Tauriel's and Kili's), thrust into his body in his attempt to get at the Hobbit. 

Azog fell dead at Bilbo's feet. 

"Well, that's that," Bilbo said with a sigh. "Now time for the clean up."


End file.
